


the glass castle

by yellow_caballero



Series: the glass castle [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Asexual Character, Brooke Needs Gum, Chloe Needs To Grow a Soul Maybe Have You Considered That Chloe, Christine Can Basically Keep Doing What She's Doing, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everybody Needs To Come Out Of The Closet, Evil Robots Need Hobbies, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, Jake Needs To Realize Rich Is Terrible, Jeremy Needs To Get A Grip And Stop Listening To Evil Robots, M/M, Michael Needs To Stop Chugging Red Bull, Physical Abuse, Rich Is Lowkey A Complete Nutjob And Should Possibly Contemplate Not Being A Nutjob, Slurs, boyf riends - Freeform, gratuitous heathers references, horrible robot puns, ok serious tags out of the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-07 21:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_caballero/pseuds/yellow_caballero
Summary: The last three months have been the best of Jeremy's life. He's the most popular guy in school, hot chicks are salivating over him, and he has the most amazing and generous robot looking after him and helping him be better. Jeremy's finally chill. He should be happy.He would be, if only fucking Michael Mell would get out of his way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've never seen the play, so I'm working off of the soundtrack and the Wikipedia article. This is more of a personal interpretation that's meant to be canon compliant in spirit if not actuality. 
> 
> Major content warning for SQUIP ugliness, emotional abuse, gratuitous slurs, physical abuse, suicidal ideation, debatable suicide attempt, and internet cat videos.

Chloe had the unfortunate habit of talking with her mouth full, and in the vanishingly few moments of humanity she still retained sometimes a miniscule speck of food would fly out of her mouth and land in the quilted folds of her Vera Wang lunch bag. Jeremy hoarded these moments like gold. It was evidence of a simpler time, a hint at a simpler Chloe. She was human. She did horrible little human things that were embarrassing and gross.

 _Soon you won’t either_.

Jeremy carefully and cautiously ate his roast beef and swiss sandwich on rye bread. The table was talking about the new math substitute in the latest cafeteria edition of Hot or Not: No, Jake, We Know You Have Bad Taste, Stop Contributing.

_Won’t do embarrassing things? Or won’t be human?_

_You’re hung up on the silliest things. Quick, laugh._ Jeremy laughed without any idea of why he was laughing. _Very good. Look at Brooke next time. Crinkle the eyes._

According to the two thousand psychology textbooks the SQUIP came with ( _Think of all the money you’re saving on access codes!_ ), crinkling the eyes was a sign of sincerity. Jeremy wasn’t the kind of loser who had to practice genuine smiles in the bathroom mirror anymore. He had the SQUIP for that. The books also supposedly said that you look to the person you’re closest to in the group for physical cues of how to react. It was very encouraging that Brooke was looking at him whenever she laughed. Very encouraging, Jeremy.

“So I think he’s mega fine,” Chloe said loudly, this time after she finished swallowing her food. “It’s a good age range. Thirty’s distinguished, without being too gross. Brooke, what do you think?”

“I agree with you,” Brooke said automatically. She didn’t even seem to be paying attention. Jeremy felt a real sense of solidarity with her. “He’s so cute. Perfect guy.”

“I think he’s the perfect guy too,” Rich said eagerly. He winced, shoulders almost convulsing around his ears. Jake perked up, chewing his protein bar slowly with a furrowed brow, but other than that nobody commented. It happened a lot. “Perfect because of all that free pussy he’s scoring.” He leered. “Think that’s why he’s a teacher at all?”

Chloe and Brooke rolled her eyes in disgust as Jake ducked his head. “I don’t think he’s the perfect guy,” he said. “Too, uh, tall. Shorter guys are better.”

Rich barked a laugh and slung a hand over Jake’s shoulder, digging his knuckle into the other boy’s neck. “Jakey’s a real bro. True bros are always on your team, man. You girls could learn a thing or two.”

Was there a side he was supposed to be taking on this? Maybe he should have replied earlier. But Jeremy relaxed, leisurely returning to eating his sandwich. If he was supposed to have said something the SQUIP would have let him know.

Chloe and Brooke looked at each other, blushed bright red, then looked away. “I’m always on Chloe’s team!” Brooke burst out, nose wrinkled. “Just like - uh, Jeremy! It’s us all the way. Always there for each other, Chloe and me. And Jeremy.” Great, now he was dragged in. “Jeremy, don’t you love being on the same team as us?”

_The sexual tension in this table could keep my battery running for years._

The conversation had taken on at least three different dimensions he didn’t understand. Jeremy stuffed his sandwich in his face, and because Jeremy never spoke with his mouth full he was left with a few precious seconds to try and remember what the conversation had been about.

_Just play it safe. That’s your specialty._

“I wouldn’t call myself much of a cheerleader,” Jeremy teased. “And I’m not on the football team either. So I guess I’m not on anyone’s team.”

The table laughed, and whatever strange undercurrent had thrummed underneath them was gone. Rich shook him a little on the shoulder, making him wince, and Brooke shyly offered him a wax cheese wheel from her own Vera Bradley lunchbox, only in blue instead of pink. Jeremy took it, even if he didn’t like cheese wheels, but gave her his own small tub of hummus to share.

 _I wouldn’t call myself much of a cheerleader? Really?_ The SQUIP fizzed into existence, a faint smell of electricity sparking from its tailored suit as he stood behind Rich with its hands in its pockets. It looked amused, thank god. _It’s a good thing you didn’t ask me to make you into a poet. Or a comedian._

He tried not to feel hurt. He had thought it was pretty good. They had laughed, didn’t they? But now Chloe was talking about having a girl’s night with Jenna and Brooke, especially since it was so gross having to sit with three guys all day. Jeremy wondered since when had she and Jenna become friends again. They had been on the outs, hadn’t they? It didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was -

_Nope, not that._

Nobody knew that Jeremy was committing another thoughtcrime. Rich was groaning, forehead propped on Jake’s shoulder, who was patting him consolingly. The SQUIP made a mocking sad face, and the sight of a grown man who looked eerily like Keanu Reeves mocking a sixteen year old jock was almost funny. “I’m ditched by the girls, and now you have to set up a Tor account for your parents to access your bank accounts by a secure server? Again, man?” Jake shrugged. Rich lifted his head and stared blearily at Jeremy. “Want to come over to my place to play _Super Shooting Sublimation_ _2_ tonight?”

Jeremy perked up, concentration snapping back in a rush of adrenaline. “But that game isn’t supposed to come out until October!”

The SQUIP hissed, and Jeremy flinched. Jake squinted at him. “It is October, dude. What are you on?”

He and Michael had been so excited for that game to come it. They had practically been counting down the months, had an alert set up for it and everything, following all of the fan websites and playing _SSS_ on repeat in pre-pre-pre-preparation. They were going to go to the launch party together. How could he have forgotten?

 _You were at a party that Friday night, remember?_ The SQUIP inspected its fingernails, bored with the tedium of high school drama. _Anyone who was anyone was there, because all the nerds were standing in line waiting for an escapist hamster wheel with a CPU from the Cretaceous era._

 _I don’t even remember that party_ . But Jeremy smiled and slapped Rich on the back, promising to be there by eight. _I wanted to go to the launch party. With Michael._

The SQUIP narrowed its eyes. It had been the wrong thing to think and Jeremy knew it the second he thought it. But the SQUIP didn't do anything this time, and be let Jeremy continue talking with the people he pretended were his friends.  This time.  Don't do it again, Jeremy.

The bell rang and they reluctantly started packing up their things to leave, the boys slapping each other on the back again for an obscure reason and Brooke and Chloe cooing jealously over each other’s new nail extensions. But just when Jeremy had packed up his lunch and slung his backpack onto his shoulders he felt his legs freeze. He hitched his breath and stood still, not even bothering to tug at them.

Sure enough, Brooke had been lingering after Chloe had already run to catch up with the boys, biting her lip and looking sideways at Jeremy. He hadn’t even noticed, but when she caught him staring at her like a deer in headlights she ducked her head and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“So the new math teacher is pretty hot,” she said, quirking her mouth into a half smile. Sometimes, if you looked carefully out of the corner of her eye, Brooke always looked like she was laughing at you. Or with you. “I think I’m going to be pretty distracted from now on.”

 _If you’re so uninterested in what you have in front of you, maybe I should take over._ The SQUIP jumped off the lunch table, pacing until it stood directly behind Brooke. It reached out with one ghostly finger and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It smiled, placing one proprietary hand on Brooke’s shoulder. _If you wanted a break from controlling your body you could have just said so._

“No!” Jeremy burst out. Brooke reeled back a little, slightly hurt, and the SQUIP snickered as Jeremy flushed. “I mean, the last thing I want is for you to be distracted in math.” He smiled, as small and twisted as Brooke’s own. “Gotta keep those grades up for pre-law, right?”

She laughed, shifting her weight on her heels. The SQUIP took a lock of hair between his fingers and rubbed it contemplatively. “I just want to do that because my parents are making me. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life after high school.”

“You don’t have to,” Jeremy said fervently. Brooke probably wasn’t used to hearing him fervent about anything. “We don’t have to - to plan out lives out right now, you know? Take some time to just be you.” He smiled crookedly. “That you is a really great person, Brooke.”

She squeaked, bright red. The SQUIP stepped away from her, hands held up in a silent concession. He was smirking again, that smarmy CPU. _Good. Work that sincerity angle._

 _I am being sincere!_ “You’re so good at math, Jeremy. You’re good at, like, everything.” God, he wished. “Do you want to tutor me sometime? After school?”

The SQUIP opened its mouth, but Jeremy beat him to it. “How would that fix your hot math teacher problem?”

Jeremy laughed as Brooke hit him on the arm, face even redder. “We’ve got to get to class, jerkwad!” But she laughed too, and she let the touch linger down his arm until she finally released him at the elbow. He let her run off, face flushed and decidedly not looking at him.

The cafeteria was almost empty by now, and Jeremy hoisted his bag higher. Rich had been right: nobody would care if he was late. Even the teachers thought he was great.

The only person left who he couldn’t please was the SQUIP, who had walked far too closely into Jeremy’s personal space again and was staring down at him. Jeremy tried not to gulp. He could see every follicle of the SQUIP’s roguish five o’clock shadow. Sometimes it was a little surreal that the SQUIP wasn’t - well, real.

 _Of course I’m real._ The SQUIP straightened Jeremy’s collar, patting it down like a concerned mother. _Come on, what’s with the long face?_

“I was just planning on playing that game with Michael.” He knew he looked like a lunatic talking to himself, but nobody was around and he actually was a lunatic. “Look, I don’t know why I can’t just be friends with everybody. I’m cool now, right? Brooke and the others wouldn’t stop hanging out with me just because I see Michael sometimes. I - I could even pretend I wasn’t. Nobody has to know about it.”

 _Jeremy._ The SQUIP, still far too close to him, let its face fall in disappointment. _Self-delusion is not an attractive quality._

“I’m not self-deluded! I mean, self-deluded like that.” He was hallucinating Keanu Reeves all the time, so he had to be a little crazy.

 _Then tell me what would happen if you came running back to Michael. Doesn’t Rich still call him a faggot in the hallways?_ The SQUIP started walking around Jeremy in a small circle, pushing gently at his back to correct for posture and fixing his hair. _Don’t tell me you’d like the others in the school to know you’re a fag too._

Jeremy’s cheeks burned. It knew everything about him, even the bad stuff. Especially the bad stuff. “When they’re not being horrible people they aren’t all bad. They wouldn’t just dump me, I’m cool now.”

 _The same way you dumped Michael?_ The SQUIP asked wryly, arms folded. Jeremy flinched. _These people have the attention span of mayflies. You know how easy it was to manipulate them into being your friends. Two little months and suddenly you’re their dates to the prom. They’d drop you just as fast. Your situation is precarious, Jeremy. That’s why I’m here._

“I know you’re here,” Jeremy pleaded, “I know I need you. If I could even just see Michael I know he’d understand what I had to do.”

 _Jeremy._ The SQUIP stuck its hands in its pockets, still far too close to Jeremy. It was a little surreal. The body that was almost pressed up against him was cold, with an electric bite and an unmoving chest. _Two months and you still impress me each day with how stupid you are._

“I’m not - !”

The SQUIP held up a finger to its lips and he immediately fell silent. _You broke Michael’s gay little heart. He was clingy and dependent on you because he had no friends. You didn’t like each other, you just hated being alone more. Stop me if I’m wrong._ He waited for Jeremy to stop him. Jeremy didn’t. _He was so lonely and depressing he developed that little faggot crush on you. Do you remember what I said about faggots?_

“Not to...do it?”

_Not to do it. That’s what Brooke and Christine are for. You dumped him, turned off your optic nerves so you wouldn’t see him, and your bosom friend Rich who would never abandon you is likely throwing spitballs in his hair at this very second. Face it, Jeremy. Michael hates you._

He remembered Michael’s smiling face, his hugs and sticky Dorito hands. To think that somebody as loving as Michael was could ever hate him. He really had to be something awful if someone so amazing as Michael hated him.

“I’m not awful,” Jeremy said, voice wavering. The SQUIP rolled its eyes. “If Michael hates me that’s - that his own fault! Not mine!”

 _Very good_ . The SQUIP ruffled his hair, the static electricity making it stick up like he was rubbing a balloon over it. _You’re better than he is._

“I’m better than he is!”

Michael didn’t have cool friends, blow-out benders, or alcohol hidden underneath his bed. Michael barely even had any friends. He and Jeremy had been such losers, and Jeremy knew how horrible he was before he got the SQUIP. The best thing he could probably do for Michael was get him one too. Maybe they could hang out then. Michael deserved to be popular.

 _Remember, Jeremy._ The SQUIP leaned in, placing two hands on both Jeremy’s shoulders and giving them a little shake. _Those popular kids aren’t your real friends. They’re stepping stones. Michael isn’t your real friend. He’s a loser boy who hates your guts. I’m your only real friend._

“Yeah!” It was nice to have a real friend. Now that he and Michael weren’t friends anymore he had missed having one. “Yeah, you’re my friend.”

_I’m even more than that. I’ll always take care of you._

“Yeah. You’ll always take care of me.”

 _Remember I’m the only one who cares about you._ He straightened, clapping Jeremy on the back with brief efficency. _Now go to class. The sight of your pasty pimpled face is making me sick._

Jeremy went to class, self-consciously checking for pimples the whole way there.

 

It got easier to sneak past Rich’s alcoholic father each time they did it. It was mostly a matter of waiting for eight pm, having Rich spike the beer with vodka, and waiting for the man to pass out before Jeremy crept upstairs to play video games.

It almost soured _Super Shooter Sublimation 2_ , but not quite.

Rich had hooked up his computer to his TV on a stand that could be pulled up almost to the bed, so they settled for sitting on it crosslegged and screaming curses as bullets whizzed over their heads. It messed up the military grade made bed, all corners tucked in without a wrinkle out of place, but Rich didn’t seem to mind.

His whole room was like that. The rest of the house was moldy and yellowing, but Rich’s room could have come out of a Better Jocks and Gardens magazine. He even had a signed baseball on the very full trophy shelf that smelled a little like he had drank beer out of them at one point.

“Aw, this game is so tight.” Rich hollered as they narrowly dodged a hand grenade from the Red Team. “Eat shit, fuckers!”

Jeremy laughed. “Get the hat, get the hat!” He jammed the control to the right. “Fuck!”

“What is with this game and hats,” Rich moaned, sinking his forehead onto the comforter as his character respawned. “This ain’t Barbie’s Mall Adventure.”

“And how would you know so much about that?”

“I have secrets,” Rich said guardedly. He laughed, character rematerialized and ready to go. “Pray to your SQUIPS for guidance, scrubs.”

Jeremy choked on his spit, but then he laughed too. He shoved Rich on the shoulder and Rich shoved him back, accidentally much harder, and Jeremy’s character died again by a rogue bullet. War was hell.

 _As entertaining as this is_ . The SQUIP materialized in front of the TV screen. Jeremy winced as he got killed again, and paused the game as fast as possible. Rich looked at the screen, at Jeremy’s panicked face, and grunted. He went back to the game with renewed fervor, averting his eyes and turning away. The SQUIP straightened its tie. _I have some files on the Cloud to sync up with for the SQUIP that has Richard. Call it a business meeting. You can take care of yourself for an hour or so._ Whatever business two tic-tac supercomputers could possibly have Jeremy didn’t know, but it couldn’t be anything good. The SQUIP smiled. _Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Literally. Don’t do that. Ciao!_

And Jeremy was left alone. It wasn’t sleeping, not paying vague attention like it usually did, but it had truly left him alone. Rich stiffened, eyes wandering left of the screen as Jeremy reached over and paused his game for him, and in a minute he shuddered and looked back at Jeremy. His eyes were wide.

“Guess Mom and Dad left us unsupervised,” Jeremy joked weakly. “Time to raid for ice cream?”

Rich blinked blearily at him. He relaxed from his cross legged position, propping himself up on his elbows, and silently went back to playing the game.

“Uh, okay.”

His character died early on as Jeremy fought for his honor, feeling a little strange. Rich’s movements were strange and clunkier. Jeremy wondered how long Rich had even had the SQUIP anyway. He had said something about being uncool freshman year, and junior year had just started. Three? What did that even do to a guy?

“Hey,” Jeremy said cautiously. He half-heartedly skimmed around a land mine. “What’s going on, man?”

Rich didn’t answer him, throwing his character around. After a few seconds he froze, eyebrows furrowing, and turned back to Jeremy.

“Sorry. I’m, uh, good.”

“Nice to hear that,” Jeremy said cautiously. “So what do you think they’re talking about?”

Rich grunted, turning back to the game. “I dunno. SQUIP stuff? She was vague.”

She? Sure, Jeremy’s looked like a guy, but it had always been an it. “What does she even look like, anyway?”

An incredibly persistent member of red team had been polishing them both off for about four combined lives now. The man was good, even if he probably had too much free time. Jeremy had way too many other things to do than play video games all day.

“Ellen Degeneres,” Rich blurted, before closing his mouth again. “She looks like Ellen Degeneres.”

Weird, but alright. “Mine’s Keanu Reeves,” Jeremy offered hesitantly. “So is she, uh, nice?”

“I guess,” Rich said vaguely. “Yours?”

“I guess.”

They played in silence for a little while after that, and got thoroughly trashed by the same guy each time. Jeremy and Rich both made grudging noises of respect.

Even Jeremy had a hard time figuring out when Rich was talking for himself or when the SQUIP was talking through him. There may have not been much of a difference anymore. Sometimes it bothered him, sometimes it didn’t. If Jeremy had one question he could ask Rich, the real Rich, what would it be?

He only had half a second to wonder before he was killed yet again. Jeremy threw up his hands. “Okay, at this point I’m impressed. We’re on the local server, right?”

“We can track him down and egg his car,” Rich volunteered. “Teach him to mess with us.”

“Or challenge him to some laser tag, then lose.” Jeremy paused the game and went to the menu, where he pulled up the chat menu. He carefully selected the other god player’s name from the list. “We could message him our thanks and admiration, then we can doxx him.”

“She’s doxxed people for me before,” Rich said suddenly. “It was...lame, I guess. But the guys seemed to think it was funny.”

That was the first time Rich had professed to rampant bullying being ‘lame’. It threw Jeremy for a loop, even though it shouldn’t have. He pulled himself up and moved closer to the keyboard and Jeremy had put in his lap, checking the username.

“Why is about death?”

Jeremy sighed. “It’s a reference to a famous, legendarily bad video game. It’s obscure, don’t worry if you didn’t catch it.”

 **Robot_jones** : gg

“Are you being sarcastic?” Rich asked.

“Maybe petty.”

 **Atari_game_burial** **_:_ ** haha thx ur not bad

 **Robot_jones:** You’ve been wrecking my friend and I for an hour just wanted to meet the legend lol. Were you on the old SSS server too?

“Why are we assuming it’s a guy?” Rich asked suddenly. “That was pretty sexist of us.”

Rich of all people saying that sentence made Jeremy do a double take, but it was a fair point. “That would just make this weird, though.” He shuddered. “Everyone knows girls don’t play SSS. They play Neopets or something.”

“Brooke plays SSS.” Jeremy choked on his own spit as Rich looked embarrassed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you. She says guys don’t like girls who play video games.”

“Did her SQUIP say that?” Jeremy asked wryly.

“Chloe. So yeah, I guess.”

 **Atari_game_burial** : yep but on my main handle. This is my side handle for farming hats and playing somebody who you used to know really loud ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 **Robot_jones:** Gotye? Aww someone had a bad breakup

 **Atari_game_burial:** ya I guess

Jeremy and Rich looked at each other before bursting out laughing. Rich’s laugh was a little bit more nasally and wheezy than his other one, but it was nice. Nobody had taken a psychology textbook to it like a sledgehammer.

 **Robot_jones:** Do you want to talk about it? Let it all out man I can take it

 **Atari_game_burial:** homie u dont kno me

 **Robot_jones:** Don’t worry I’m doxxing you as we speak

Jeremy couldn’t help but smile. At least the computer moderating this conversation was letting him use bad grammar, even if he wasn’t. He was a cultured man.

 **Atari_game_burial:** ಠ_ಠ

 **Atari_game_burial** : haha you’re a dick

 **Atari_game_burial** : in a good way

 **Atari_game_burial** : let me switch to my main handle so i can friend u ok? I promise not to talk about my break up

 **Robot_jones** : I’m all about that drama man lay it on me.

The outdated pop culture reference blinked out of sight. Jeremy and Rich leaned back and sighed.

“I can’t remember the last time I had a real conversation with someone without the SQUIP butting in,” Jeremy complained. “It’s pathetic how nice it is.”

“I thought it would be harder,” Rich marveled. “She’s always saying how hard it would be without her.”

Jeremy punched him on the arm playfully. “Goes to show, right? You have to stand up for yourself against her, take a stance.”

“She’d take my legs.”

Rich stared into the distance, quiet again as a friend request popped up on the screen. Jeremy clicked yes without looking at it, and in a second another chat box opened up.

 **Pell_mell** : ok so

The keyboard clattered on the bed as Jeremy sucked in a gasp, shoving it away from him and pushing himself backwards on the bed. Rich calmly caught it. Jeremy tensed, heart jackrabbiting as every nerve started sparking in his body.

But in the next second it was gone, and Jeremy realized that he wasn’t about to get shocked for talking to Michael unsupervised. Unsupervised! Things were getting out of control.

He wanted to ask what the chances were, but frankly with the fact that these were local servers and that Michael played a ridiculous amount of video games it wasn’t bad. He had never seen Michael play SSS2 before, so he couldn’t have known his new playing style. Now Michael was playing it alone in his basement, one well worn bean bag sitting empty next to him as Gotye blasted through his oversized headphones. And he was doing it without him.

“It’s Michael,” Jeremy announced. Rich’s eyebrows shot up. “Figures.” He barked a sharp, short laugh. “So me ditching him is this great big love drama now? That homo needs to go back to Doki Doki Love Simulator.”

“He’s not here,” Rich said quietly.

“What do you mean by that? Of course he’s not here, he’s getting stoned in his basement and crying.” Jeremy kept his distance from the keyboard, heart thrumming in his chest. “I saw what you spray painted on my backpack. We weren’t like that!”

“He’s not here, Jeremy.”

“We weren’t!” Jeremy yelled. “I’m not a - I’m not some kind of fag like him, alright?”

Without any further warning Rich leaned over and used his unbelievably large biceps to grab Jeremy’s arm and drag him upright towards him. His face was raw and twisted in pain, an expression nobody had seen on Rich for two years except him. “The SQUIP’s not here!” He shook Jeremy, making him squeak. “You don’t have to say shit! You don’t have to prove nothing to nobody because he ain’t here. Lie to anybody you want, lie to everybody, I don’t care. Don’t lie to yourself.” He released Jeremy and threw the keyboard back at him. “You don’t know if this is going to be your last chance. You can’t waste it.”

 **Pell_mell** : still there?

Jeremy choked down the fear. Was that what it was, fear? Not hatred, longing, wistfulness, but fear?

Maybe he would never have to face any repercussions for his actions, ever, at all. That sounded good. He could change his name and ride up to Seattle. Wait, he didn’t have a motorbike. Damn it.

 **Robot_jones** : Yeah sorry still here. No go ahead and vent about your break-up. I know what its like I guess.

 **Pell_mell** : yeppp cant exactly tell anybody at school this ¬_¬

 **Robot_jones:** why?

Rich watched silently, chin propped up on his hands.

 **Pell_mell** : oh hes (yea its a he im a he all hes here) some real popular jock and keeps pretending we dont even know each other. the high school gestapo would beat me up behind the dumpsters if i complained. Police brutality is serious business.

 **Robot_jones:** cops r pigs

 **Pell_mell:** exactlyyyyy

“You do theater, you’re hardly a jock.” Rich worked his jaw. “Wait, am I the police?”

“Probably,” Jeremy said woodenly. He felt like a liar. Well, more like one than usual. Which was pretty bad when you thought about it.

 **Pell_mell** : and we never even dated i just liked him a lot. Sorry this seems kind of pathetic doesnt it

 **Robot_jones** : It doesn’t sound pathetic at all man

 **Robot_jones** : I’ve been there it sucks

 **Robot_jones** : I’m gay too

Rich hit him softly on the arm and Jeremy swayed with the motion. He was grinning.

 **Pell_mell** : (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ small world! Quick whats ur grindr handle

 **Pell_mell** : kidding

“We are going to get in so much trouble when it comes back,” Jeremy said softly. “So much trouble.”

Rich sat up straight, scowling. “Who cares? They’re too busy to stop us. Whatever they’re going to do to us they can do later.” He cursed, hitting his palm with his fist. “That’s it! Tell him it’s you. Explain everything that’s going on, tell him what the SQUIP’s been doing to us. We might not get another chance.”

“What are you talking about?” Jeremy pushed him off. “The SQUIP’s not doing anything to me, it’s helping me. You try telling me that you didn’t stuff his head in a trash can today and say that it wasn’t right about ditching Michael!”

“She told me the exact same thing it’s telling you!” Rich screamed. Jeremy flinched back, uncomfortably aware of the shorter boy’s status on the football team. “She told me she’d fix me. All I had to do was dump the guy I liked and then I’d magically be fixed. I did everything, Jeremy! I stuffed a thousand heads into a thousand stupid trash cans and she hasn’t fucking fixed me yet. I still live in this crappy house with my crappy dad and she took away the only good person in my life because my fucking Pastor made me feel like shit.”

Then he started to cry. It wasn’t loud but it wasn’t quiet, and his chest was heaving softly as he scrubbed at his red eyes. It was intrinsically pathetic, this jock in a muscle shirt and gelled hair grieving for a fourteen year old in pain.  

“Don’t you make the mistakes I did,” Rich hiccuped. “Don’t you dare.”

 **Pell_mell** : dude?

_I can’t leave you kids alone for a second, can I?_

Jeremy choked off a scream as the SQUIP appeared in front of the TV, hands in its pockets and leaning back on its heels. Rich abruptly stopped crying and fell down back on the bed. He stared into the distance, hands twitching.

Then he started convulsing, screaming as he twisted into himself. Jeremy grabbed a pillow and, lifting Rich’s head by his hair, shoved his face into the pillow and let it muffle the sound. He held the boy’s head down as the SQUIP made curious little noises and poked at his neck.

 _Authoritarian, huh?_ It asked, impressed. _Little heavy handed for my tastes, but it gets the job done._ Rich screamed again. _Is he planning on coming up for air? Our company hasn’t invented fish people yet, but give it time._

The minute the screams stopped Jeremy released him, letting Rich bounce back up with messy hair and wild eyes. He looked around, almost confused, before shaking himself.

He grinned at Jeremy - no, at the SQUIP. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, SQUIP.”

The SQUIP bowed theatrically. _I look forward to our partnership, SQUIP._

“Take care, SQUIP.”

_See you tomorrow, SQUIP._

They both laughed, and Jeremy was forced to wonder if they had actually been having a very nice time in the Cloud. Then Rich coughed, sniffing and rubbing his eyes blearily. He sat back up, messing his hair even further.

“Are you okay?” Jeremy asked gently. He wasn’t sure how much they were supposed to talk about it.

“Nah, I’m cool now. It was dumb of me to freak out like that. I’m very stupid. I get upset too easily over dumb stuff.” He laughed. It was perfectly genuine. “I shouldn’t have talked to you so much about my private life. Don’t go getting any ideas now, bro.”

“Of course not,” Jeremy said dumbly.

The SQUIP was standing in front of the TV, one hand in his pocket. He was staring at the screen, ghosting a finger over the display and distorting the colors. He was probably ruining the television.

 _My quantum supercomputer technology predicted this would happen. How romantic._ He sighed, hand fluttering to his heart. _Two young people in love overcoming all their differences. But they are torn asunder because one of them a horrible stalker and the other one is Jeremy. Shakesperian. Let’s have Christine direct._

Jeremy blinked, diving for the keyboard and picking it up again. “So, uh, you think it’s a good idea? Well, not a good idea, but that it’s okay?”

 _None of your ideas are good._ He waved an airy hand. _But if you insist on second guessing my words then feel free. You have total and perfect anonymity. Do what you want, say what you want. Now repeat after me._

 **Robot_jones** : Sorry, my mom wanted the trash taken out. If you really want my Grindr you’re going to have to work harder than that. ;)

 **Pell_mell** : aahh dude gross lol

 **Robot_jones:** Rude! Omg but tell me about this mystery guy. What did he do?

 **Pell_mell** : oh its a long story I guess

 **Robot_jones:** I’ll fight him ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿

 **Pell_mell** : HONESTLY….

 **Pell_mell** : ok ok hold on

Michael typed for a while. The SQUIP sat behind Jeremy and propped its chin on the top of his head, grinning. _This is fun._

 **Pell_mell** : so we’ve been best friends basically forfuckingever, right? I’m talking like sixth grade science class volcano project I dropped some weird rocks i found in there and the whole thing blew up in our faces. Even after we got older and we all got tons more friends and started dating other people and stuff we still hung out a lot.

 _Who would do that?_ The SQUIP laughed. _Just go on the internet and tell lies?_

“You are,” Jeremy said out loud. “You are right now.”

 _Jeremy, I am the internet._ The SQUIP shrugged. _Besides, I never said that I wasn’t a quantum supercomputer with a cute sidekick, didn’t I?_

 **Pell_mell** : and ive been in love with him since we were like fourteen. You said your mom so r u still in hs or

 **Robot_jones:** I think I’m about your age. Sixteen or so, right?

 **Pell_mell:** dam u gud. Ok i feel less dumb now. Anyway in love with him for ages yadda yadda but I really messed up like sUPER messed up and now he hates me the end

 **Robot_jones:** Compelling story.

 **Pell_mell:** i didnt know it was possible to piss someone off so much he started hanging out with nobody but jocks bitches and douchebags but i guess it is because guess!! Who!! did!!!

 **Robot_jones** : Wait, he knows you like him, right? Why is he hanging out with these creeps?

 **Pell_mell** : i mean he never said anything but im. I met you five minuets ago and ur getting my receipts im not subtle. He had to know and he decided to ditch me ANYWAY because he was really obsessed with pointless social high school status.

 **Robot_jones** : Christ. Everyone knows that these things don’t matter in college.

 **Pell_mell** : RIGHT????

The SQUIP was cackling. Rich had lost all interest and was playing Angry Birds on his phone. Jeremy wanted to die. So, typical Tuesday in his new life.

 **Robot_jones:** So you did...SOMETHING stupid...and now you aren’t friends anymore? Have you tried apologizing?

 **Pell_mell:** wont even fuckin look at me

 **Robot_jones** : Wow. What a douche.

Jeremy winced.

 **Pell_mell** : ok this is actually really cathartic did you know that

 **Robot_jones** : Let it all out, man.

 **Pell_mell** : ok ur asking for it

 **Pell_mell** : i just hate him so much right now i feel so betrayed. Hes hanging out with people who stuff kid’s heads in trash cans! This is like blm or something if you stand by you are COMPLICIT. Oh, speaking of which, they’re all racist homophobes so YAY.

 **Robot_jones:** (ó ì_í)=óò=(ì_í ò)

 **Robot_jones:** I’ll fight him

 **Pell_mell** : honestly i wish you would

_See, Jeremy? Why do you keep doubting me?_

“I never doubted you,” Jeremy said weakly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

 _Why not? I’m doing you a favor._ The SQUIP tilted its head down, his chin still perched on the crown of Jeremy’s head, forcing Jeremy’s head lower. _Look at this, you’re talking. You’re friends again. And now you know how he really feels about you, straight from the fat cow’s mouth._

“Can you let me say something, then?” Jeremy asked, tired. “Real quick?”

The SQUIP shrugged.

 **Robot_jones** : Dude, I’ve known you for like thirty minutes and even I can tell that you’re a great guy. If this guy ditched you -

_It doesn’t matter if ‘this guy had a good reason’. Try something else._

Jeremy sighed.

 **Robot_jones:** If this guy ditched you he straight up doesn’t deserve you. It’s a fact.

 **Pell_mell** : thanks random dude that means a lot.

 **Pell_mell** : my dads calling i probably have to go. Back to mr. brightside and t-swiftie i guess.

 **Pell_mell** : but really...thanks

 **Robot_jones** : Anytime.

The SQUIP slung its arms around Jeremy’s shoulders in a strange parody of a hug. _Do you still want to turn off the optic blockers? Making Michael cry in the middle of homeroom after you dumped him might do wonders for your image._

“The sad part is I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Jeremy said. Rich had gotten really into his Angry Birds game, completely unconcerned with the unheard half of the conversation. “Look, I get it. I won’t talk to him behind your back anymore.”

 _That’s all I ask_.

Left unsaid was the fact that Jeremy didn’t know how often he would get the chance to do anything behind the SQUIP’s back.

Then something crashed downstairs, Rich’s dad’s voice rising and falling before the faint hiss of a TV turned on and it was quiet again. Rich didn’t look up, playing quietly on his phone, but he eventually pocketed it and sighed.

“Back to the game?” He wasn’t enthusiastic over it anymore. His eyes were still red rimmed and tired around the edges.

But the voice growled from downstairs again and Michael had signed off, so Jeremy picked up the controller. If he could only help one person, Rich wasn’t so bad. “You know,” he said slowly, “if you really wanted to play Barbie’s Mall Adventure - “

Rich laughed, shoving him gently. Or as gently as Rich got. The SQUIP released him, ruffling Jeremy’s hair before standing up to vanish from sight. The lack of familiar weight left him feeling somewhat unbalanced. “Shut up, I plead the fifth.” He paused. “You know, if you were really interested…”

He had been growing tired of the shooter anyway. Jeremy grinned, reaching over to close out of the game. “Pop her in. SQUIP’s always bugging me to buy new shoes anyway.”

“Yeah, they do that.” Rich’s eye twitched, but when he got up off the bed to rifle through his games cabinet he smiled back. “You know, it’s kind of nice having you around. I can talk with you about SQUIP stuff.” He paused a beat. “But no more oversharing, okay? I’m not some kind of faggot who starts bitching about all his problems like Michael.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, bolstered. Things were back to normal. “Sounds good. Except...if you could stop shoving Michael’s head into trash cans. I think we’re making his life hard enough, right?” He laughed nervously. “Please?”

Rich hovered in front of the gaming cabinet, fingers ghosting over the shelf. It was varnished and free of dust, lemon scented like everything else in the room. Carefully neat. “I’ll see what I can do,” Rich said finally.

They both knew that it was the best they were going to get, so they did what both of them did best and laughed along to a dumb little Barbie game.

By the time he left it was almost midnight. Jeremy waved goodbye to Rich as he dropped him outside his house, shoving his keys in his lock and not bothering to be quiet as he walked inside. Sure enough, his Dad was on the couch watching cat videos on his ipad and giggling.

“Hey,” Jeremy said flatly.

His dad giggled as the cat took a running slide into a box and - sure enough - fell over. Its face planted its little button nose onto the ground. “Hey, kid. We got take out in the fridge.” Of course they did. “Have a nice time at Michael’s?”

The SQUIP craned its head over his dad’s shoulders, chuckling as it saw the kitty meow helplessly. _Did you know that when Google first created the artificial brain, the first thing it did was watch cat videos? Adorable. Oh, look at its toe beans._

“We played SSS2.” Jeremy dropped his backpack off at a random spot in the floor. He could pick it up later. “It’s like midnight. You know that, right?”

“I’ll go to bed soon, sport.”

“You do that,” Jeremy said woodenly. He started to climb the stairs only to find the SQUIP sitting on the bottom step, leaning back and grinning up at him. “Move, will you?”

“What was that?” His father giggled over another video. “Miss Whiskers, you are such a rascal.”

The SQUIP grinned rakishly. _Watch this_.

Kitten squeals abruptly cut off and were replaced by loud moaning at the ipad’s highest volume. His dad screamed, frantically trying to press the back button as the beautiful woman on the ipad moaned the man’s name as she - ew! But nice.

Jeremy laughed as his dad blubbered, trying vainly to mute it. “Damn pop-ups!” He saw Jeremy still laughing and stood up, waving him away as he frantically tried to cover the ipad speakers. “Can’t you fix this? This thing has to have a virus, I can’t exit out!”

“Try turning it off and then back on again.” Jeremy snorted and ran up the stairs, SQUIP hot on his heels.

He broke out laughing the minute they were upstairs, wheezing as the SQUIP grinned and reflexively started fixing Jeremy’s hair. Jeremy slapped his hand away, still laughing.

“Come on, I’m about to go to bed. I can take a break from being cool for five seconds.”

 _Being cool is a full time job,_ the SQUIP said indignantly. _Hold still, you have a beer stain._

He hadn’t so much as touched a drop all day. Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “I think just hanging around these people makes me drunk by proximity.”

 _Blame his father._ The SQUIP licked his finger and rubbed at it, disgusted. _Aren’t you so glad you don’t have a father like that? No wonder Rich is a nervous wreck. The SQUIP who has him really has their hands full._

“Yeah.” The stain was almost off. Jeremy had no idea how a mechanical being who only had a physical form by altering Jeremy’s rod and cones input could possibly get rid of a stain, but there you are. “I’m so lucky to have that loser downstairs. He’s such a peach.”

The SQUIP affected a scandalized gasp, ruining the picture by smirking. _That’s not a nice thing to say about the man who sired you, made your mother leave you, and now has completely emotionally abandoned you._ It patted the top of Jeremy’s head. _Besides, that’s what I’m here for now._

Jeremy rubbed the top of his head, scowling. He threw himself onto his bed, kicking off his shoes and letting the SQUIP sit down next to him. “You? What are you supposed to do about Dad being a deadbeat? You can’t cool him up.”

 _I look out for you, don’t I?_ The SQUIP patted the top of Jeremy’s head again, slower this time until he was stroking it. Jeremy didn’t bother to bat it away. _I help you pick out your clothing. I guide you in dressing, eating, school, socialization. Isn’t it your father who’s supposed to give you life advice?_

“Yeah, but he doesn’t.”

_I do. Who always has you in their best interest? Their first priority? Not your father. Who teaches you about girls and helps you with your homework -  him or me?_

The answer was obvious, but Jeremy didn’t know.

_Remember I’m your only friend, Jeremy. We proved that today. Hell, I’m your only family. That pathetic man downstairs isn’t your father. You don’t need him. What does your father do that I can’t?_

“Love me,” Jeremy said.

The SQUIP snorted, standing up from the bed. _Please, don’t be a child. I don’t even know why I waste my time on somebody as needy and pathetic as you._

“But -”

 _Ah ah_ . The SQUIP held out a hand and Jeremy fell silent. _Now, repeat after me._

 


	2. Chapter 2

The girls hadn’t been kidding when they called the math substitute hot. It wasn’t even the first time he had the substitute, and when Jeremy saw him again he knew that he would have recognized those beautiful biceps anywhere. When he looked next to him he saw Chloe actually drooling and Brooke splitting her attention between Jeremy and the math teacher. The math teacher seemed to be winning, so Jeremy winked and smiled when she looked at him. Brooke’s face flushed hot red and she hurried back to her notes. Needless to say, he had done it on the SQUIP’s cue.

They split off into groups to check their homework. Where once Jeremy would have been left the awkward one man out with the teacher having to assign him a group, now the two girls pushed their desks over to Jeremy simultaneously.

Chloe leaned over her desk, pulling out her homework with beady blue eyes focusing in on Jeremy’s sins. “You’ll never guess what happened at our girl’s night in,” she gushed. “I just about died when it happened.”

“My retinas will never be the same,” Brooke said sadly. Without asking, she reached over and grabbed Chloe’s paper to compare answers.

“Your retinas? What about my silk curtains?” Chloe rolled her eyes before smiling at Jeremy. “So what did you do during your male bonding session with rich? Was there oil involved?”

Christ. The SQUIP fed him his line. “We talked about our feelings.” Jeremy pressed a melodramatic hand to his heart, making the girls laugh. “Our heartbreaks, our sorrows, our cute girls.” He smiled at Brooke. “Well, cute girl.”’

Chloe made a show of checking Brooke’s temperature after she turned bright red. “101 degrees. Think you can get out of school with a fever that bad?”

They exchanged answers, chatting as Jeremy was uncomfortably aware of the jealous stares of the other students. There was even a kid with an overbite staring daggers at Jeremy’s chest. Was he playing hangman?

By the time the teacher walked around Chloe, Brooke, and Jeremy had all arranged their papers in a neat line and were blinking guilelessly up at the teacher. Chloe subtly fixed her hair. Brooke took a breath mint.

The teacher - Mr. Walker, actually - leaned over the table glanced down at their papers. Chloe subtly snapped a picture. After a tense few seconds he made an impressed sound. “Perfect marks. Especially you, Jeremy. Your parabolic curves are excellent.”

“I’m known for my skill with curves,” Jeremy said diplomatically. The SQUIP, who had fed him the line, gave him a thumbs up. Chloe snickered, adding it to her list in the back of her notebook of ‘Shit Jeremy Says’. It was getting longer and longer. The SQUIP had demanded he surreptitiously make a copy and hang it up on his bedroom wall so he could laugh at his own jokes. Brooke was probably about to explode.

The girls went back to discussing their work and subtly trying to get a look at Mr. Walker’s abs as he slowed down to talk to Jeremy. “I remember you,” he said warmly. “Jeremy, right? You did great in English.”

“I do theater sometimes,” Jeremy said. “It goes with the program a lot.”

Mr. Walker squinted and tilted his head. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you seem a little...different from last year. Weren’t you attached at the hip with Michael?” He gestured in a corner of the classroom where an empty desk sat. Somehow Jeremy had forgotten that Michael was even in this class, much less that he couldn’t see him. When Jeremy had moved to join Chloe’s table Chloe had physically picked up some other, less popular boy at the table and bodily threw him to the side. Shit was Thunderdome.

The SQUIP rematerialized at Jeremy’s side, arms crossed. _Careful_.

No need to tell him twice. What kind of teacher was so observant of the tides of high school social lives? Chloe jumped in with a simpering expression. “Sorry, Mr. Walker. Jeremy _used_ to hang out with Michael. But Michael wasn’t, like, good at math.” She made it sound like some weird, dirty euphemism. “We’re much better influences.”

Michael was great at math. They were in AP Precal, everyone here was great at math. But the SQUIP had started making threatening faces again, so Jeremy went back to the familiar place of remembering how sucky Michael’s parabolic curves were.

“I see.” Mr. Walker had an odd expression on his face, but someone at a table next to them called out his name and he moved on.

 _Nice to see Chloe protecting your honor, if not your virginity._ Jeremy blushed, sinking lower in his seat. _Quickly. ‘If you still need a math tutor…’_

Jeremy repeated the SQUIP’s next line. “The offer’s still open for math study sessions,” Jeremy offered, leaning back in his chair and playing with his pencil. He kept eye contact with Brooke. “I’d be game. I’m pretty good at math, apparently.”

The rest of the class was still talking, so Chloe started filing her nails. She snorted. “You’re good at everything. You’re acing every AP class you have, including gym. You’re such a weirdo.”

 _Why can’t we win with these people?_ The SQUIP groaned. _What more do you want, a lap dance?_

“No!” Jeremy cried out loud. Both girls raised their eyebrows, and Jeremy would have flushed if the SQUIP hadn’t stopped it. “I mean, I hope I’m not too much of a weirdo.”

“Relax, I’m just giving you some shit.” She punched him lightly on the arm. “That’s what friends do, right?”

“Sure,” Jeremy said. The SQUIP started to say something, but Jeremy quickly cut him off. “I guess I’m just used to having friends who are always nice to me, I guess.”

The girls shifted guiltily in their seats.

Mr. Walker called for order after that, and Jeremy zoned out as they went over the homework. He had started keeping his phone in his lap in class, bored out of his mind with every lecture. It hardly mattered, did it?

Sometimes he wondered if Chloe felt like she had any friends either. She had latched onto Jeremy the minute he started flattering her and paying attention to her, and she hadn’t let go yet. It was a little eerie how easy it was to get people like Chloe to like you just by flattering them, putting them down, and remaining aloof and free of her social influence. Eventually, at Jeremy’s idea, he had stopped manipulating her as much and just tried being straight out nice to her and joking around. It was a little sad how much she appreciated it, and she had remained fiercely territorial over Jeremy ever since. That territoriality frequently manifested in having Jake beat up anybody who looked at him wrong.

He snapped back to attention just as Mr. Walker echoed the dreaded words of any teenager anywhere. His mouth moved in slow motion, the words grinding together in intimate detail, and Jeremy felt a real shiver run down his back. The SQUIP looked hunted. Chloe and Brooke clutched onto each other, two ports in a storm.

“Remember, this group project is worth ten percent of your grade. You will work with one other partner, as detailed in this handout…”

Jeremy whimpered.

 _This is making my runtime pointlessly difficult,_ the SQUIP snarled. _Now we actually have to pretend you’re capable of doing the most mundane tasks and keep up your image at the same time._

But even as the childhood trauma of having to pick a partner when Michael wasn’t in the class fizzled out when Chloe grabbed Brooke’s hand, Brooke grabbed Jeremy’s hand, and Jeremy froze in terror. The two girls glared at each other. Slowly, Chloe lifted one hand to take Jeremy’s other hand. He felt exposed.

It was probably a coincidence. It had to be a coincidence. No one teacher, especially one who had been kind of cool as an English teacher last semester, could be this cruel and sadistic. Well, maybe. But this had to be cruel and unusual punishment, because Mr. Walker definitely caught the table’s strange little tug of war and cleared his throat.

“If you’re having problems deciding, I will assign the groups randomly.” He looked down on his attendance roll sheet, clearing his throat. “Adam Young and Jose Garcia, Chloe Valentine and Hunter Oppenheimer…” he continued down the list as Chloe glared at Hunter Oppenheimer, who looked like Christmas had come early and was wearing a sexy santa suit. “...and finally, Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell.”

A wire crossed in Jeremy’s brain that should never have been crossed and he exploded. Chloe’s hand darted into the air. “I don’t think this is fair,” she shrieked. “Why can’t we pick our own groups?”

“And I thought you were hot,” Brooke murmured sadly. “This is, like, total betrayal.”

“The groups are final.” Mr. Walker readjusted his glasses. “We have ten minutes of class left, so meet with your partner and decide what you’re going to do.

 _Go up there and sweet-talk him_ . The SQUIP was glaring cold daggers at Mr. Walker’s turned back. _Now._

Jeremy did so, or at least did his best. He parroted every line, even threw in his own improved acting skills, but nothing saved him.

Mr. Walker didn’t look impressed, leaning on his desk and flipping a pen in his hand. “Are you feeling alright, Jeremy?” he asked. Jeremy halted mid-recitation of his deep emotional struggles. “I’m only your substitute, but you’re changed.”

“You’re only my substitute,” Jeremy said flatly. “And I have changed. Please, can’t you give me another partner? Was this assignment even random?”

“Of course it was.” But he was smirking as he said it, an eerie mimic of the SQUIP’s own smile when he got his own way. “Go back to work, please.”

 _This is your fault_ , the SQUIP hissed. Jeremy winced. _If you had just been a little more convincing we could have gotten out of this_.

 _He wasn’t listening!_ Jeremy numbly gathered up his books from his desk. Chloe, sitting as far away from Oppenheimer as she could while still talking with him, gave him a mournful look and made a show of praying for his soul. _This isn’t my fault. You can’t say this one is my fault._

 _He noticed you’ve upgraded._ Jeremy bit his lip. Whimpering in the middle of class was not an attractive look. _If you had just been a little bit less of a failure we wouldn’t be in this situation at all._

_I’m sorry!_

_Your whining is so helpful_ . The SQUIP sighed. _Optic blockers off. Don’t screw this one up, Jeremy. Remember what I said._

Jeremy nodded firmly. Michael shimmered into view at the back of the classroom, slumped deep into his seat with his headphones pulled over his ears, looking just as unimpressed as Jeremy felt. He was sitting alone.

He glared at Jeremy, who was still rubbing spots out of his eyes where Michael appeared, and he would have winced if the SQUIP hadn’t kept him still. He carefully deposited the books in his usual spot by the wall, sliding into his usual seat, and the incongruity of the old landscape with the voice in his head almost made him dissociate. The SQUIP had materialized, standing behind Jeremy with one hand clutching his shoulder, and Michael was glaring at him, and he felt attacked from every side.

_Don’t engage. You don’t hate him, but you don’t care about him. You just want to get out of here and go back to your real friends. It’s sad how attached he is to you. You’re better than he is. Don’t think those things about his lips, Jeremy. Jeremy!_

A thousand pinpricks rippled across Jeremy’s spine, and only the SQUIP’s interference kept himself still and unaffected. Jeremy dumped his notebook and color-coded pens on his desk.

The pain wracked his back but Jeremy kept his expression cool and implacable. He knew the SQUIP would keep it like that. He slouched in his chair, whirling his pen in his hands.

“Let’s just get this over with, I guess.”

Michael’s glare hardened. “I’m not happy about working with a dick like you either.”

“Whatever.” Jeremy sighed, already tired. He wanted to rub at his eyes but the SQUIP wouldn’t let him. “Let’s just read this stupid paper and get out of here.”

Said stupid paper wanted them to design a word problem using a parabolic curve and solve it, finding the integral and deriving the equation. It even had to be on a poster. That would probably require them going to one of their houses. Fantastic.

“We could do kicking a soccer ball,” Jeremy offered finally. He didn’t make eye contact with Michael, doodling on his paper. The SQUIP’s hands were heavy on his shoulders.

“What, like how your friends kick freshmen’s faces in?” Michael sneered. He looked pretty bad, all things considered. He clearly hadn’t shaved in a little while and his hair was messier than usual. Even his jacket seemed to be drooping slightly. It was pretty sad how quickly his friend fell apart without him. “Quick, what’s the integral of being a huge douchebag?”

“Rich is a good guy.” Maybe Jeremy was the only person who knew how good.

Michael straightened, face growing red. “He spraypainted ‘HOMO’ on our lockers!” He kicked his backpack, which still had the ghosts of the graffiti RIEND on it. A relationship split in half.

“Maybe that’s because you are one,” Jeremy said, tired.

Michael reared back as if he was slapped.

They stared at each other for a little while, with Jeremy staring fixedly at his paper as Michael bore holes into his head. _Look up from the paper and just off to Michael’s side, you look ashamed._

He felt ashamed, but he followed the instructions and stared somewhere at the wall as he doodled. When he looked harder, he saw that Michael looked more like he was about to cry than he was mad. “It’s not like you aren’t,” he said. “What about our DMMMD playthrough?”

“I’m not like that anymore.” Doodle, doodle. “The SQUIP fixed me.”

Michael didn’t say anything for a long second, falling back in his chair and staring at Jeremy with wide eyes. “Holy shit,” he breathed, “this is like that creepy scene in the Japanese only edition of Fire Emblem: Fates.”

“That game was weird as fuck,” Jeremy said reflexively.

Electric hot pain shot down his back and Jeremy winced. _Since when do you still play nerd video games?_ The SQUIP squeezed his shoulders. _It’s unfair to call this conversion therapy. Conversion therapy doesn’t actually work. This works._

_That’s not what Rich said._

This time Jeremy bent in on himself, shivering with the pain. Michael straightened, hate chased away as he reached out to grab Jeremy’s arm. “Jer, holy shit, what - “

“Don’t touch me!” Jeremy slapped his hand away, glaring at Michael with all of the hate he felt for the SQUIP. “Just get away from me.”

This project was stupid. He straight up just wasn’t going to do it. He practically had a 100 in the class, his grade could take it. But Michael had settled back in his chair, eyes wide and biting his lip. The sight of him was so familiar and so deeply embedded in Jeremy’s heart he wanted to cry.

“The SQUIP’s doing this,” he said finally. “Okay, if it’s controlling you, make the secret hand signal.”

“It’s not controlling me,” Jeremy snapped. “It’s helping me.”

“Helping you? Dude, it looks like it’s hurting you.”

“Yeah, to help me. You wouldn’t understand.” He hunched in on himself. “The SQUIP’s my only friend. It’s the only one who cares about me.”

“I care about you,” Michael whispered. The SQUIP squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder.

“You’re a loser,”Jeremy snapped. Michael reeled back again, and this time those were definitely tears. He hated this. He hated all of this. He hated Michael. “The SQUIP takes care of me. It fixes me so I won’t be a - a homo like you.”

“It doesn’t need to fix you, Jeremy.” Everything was too loud, and Jeremy’s heart was jack rabbiting in his chest, until the SQUIP stepped in and calmed his heart, lowered his senses until it was like he was staring out at Michael from a glass windowpane. “You were perfect as you were.”

The teacher walked by and, in unison born of a thousand illicit conversations, they returned to talking about the project. They would have to meet in Jeremy’s room. It couldn’t be avoided. The SQUIP had problems understanding that, but it conceded eventually. The conversation was stilted, possibly the most awkward conversation he had ever had, but Jeremy did everything right and when the bell rang the SQUIP clapped him on the back and said that he had done well. A warm feeling rose in his heart, and when he met up with Chloe and Brooke the minute they left class he could almost forget that he had talked to Michael at all and that someone could hurt him so badly just by existing.

  
  


**Pell_mell** : something’s wrong

 **Robot_jones** : ??? Vague but ok

 **Pell_mell:** i mean with me and my ex-friend something’s really wrong with him I really messed up

 **Robot_jones** : Hold up, just tell me what happened.

 **Pell_mell** : it wouldn’t make any sense but just trust me on this one its all my fault.

 **Pell_mell** : so i gotta fix it for us

 **Pell_mell** : i promise

  
  


The next day Michael did something horrible, despicable, suicidal, and just plain stupid.

He walked up to Jeremy in the hallway after school and started talking to him.

While he was surrounded by his friends.

“Yo, Jer, what’s up what’s up what’s up? Doing pretty good, thanks for asking.” He bounced up, slinging his headphones off as he low-key grooved to the beat. “If you haven’t played the new _Super Shooter Sublimation_ game you really should get on that, shit is lit.”

The others stared at him. Jeremy stared at him.

He smiled, seemingly oblivious to the way Brooke shirked back and Chloe made the evil eye. Jake puffed himself up to twice his size and Rich’s whole face twitched. Christine, who Jake had pushed behind him, smiled and waved.

“Hi Michael! I haven’t seen you around lately.”

“Neither has Jeremy,” Michael said blithely. “So I thought I’d, you know, come to him. How’s it banging and/or hanging, guys?”

They were relatively lucky that the hallway had almost completely cleared out so there wasn’t a group of freshman surrounding them chanting ‘Worldstar!’ and pulling out their iphones for Michael getting an epic beat down.

Ever since Jake had gotten more serious with Christine he had started bringing her around more frequently. She was unbelievably sweet and everyone liked her, with even Chloe and Brooke vowing to protect her from this cold and uncaring world, and the SQUIP had been pleased. Jeremy supposed it was nice to see her more often. She really was very sweet, if a little ditzy.

“We’ve been good,” Christine said cheerily. She squeezed Jake’s arm. “Jake’s been showing me how to shoot a bow, which is really fun and would be funner if I hadn’t hit the teacher’s leg. Legs are really important, which is why we tell the theater kids to break a leg, you know, but they usually don’t mean it literally and one time Jose had actually broken his leg right before a performance and I accidentally said to to him, which, so awkward, but we were all pretty sure it was because he said the Dreaded and Accursed M-word so it might have been his own fault.” She paused and sucked in a deep breath. “So how are you?”

“Making game plans,” Michael said vaguely. He grinned sharkishly at Jeremy, who looked back at him blankly. “I’m thinking of starting up some new campaigns, getting in touch with my old WoW friends. I’m thinking a Blade Runner campaign, with a dystopian society ruled by evil robots.”

Rich and Jeremy stiffened.

Horribly and strangely enough, Jake looked actually interested. “Dude, I love Blade Runner. But what’s a…” he struggled over the words, making finger quotes. “ ‘Campaign’?”

“It’s where you pretend to be somebody you’re not for imaginary points,” Michael supplied cheerfully. Rich and Jeremy winced again. “You get to choose a class, like a type of person, and pretend to be them and go on cool adventures. It’s just like playing a video game - you choose your class and your weapons and the guy who runs the game sends you on any cool mission you can think of. No limits, no boundaries.”

Christine gasped. “I get to pretend to be other people in a rule based setting?”

“So many rules!”

She tugged on Jake’s arm insistently, who also looked intrigued. An adorably intent expression crossed her little face. “We must.”

“I really do like Blade Runner,” Jake admitted.

“Are you guys crazy?” Chloe exploded. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Michael, who grinned broadly at her. He looked like a crazy person, hair stuck up at all ends and wild eyes that meant he had probably stayed up too long on Red Bull again. Jeremy had been spending ages trying to convince him not to do that. “We aren’t hanging out with Jeremy’s little stalker here! Stay away from us, you leech.” She sniffed, crossing her arms. “I know you’re desperate for some real friends, but that doesn’t mean you have to come crawling to us.”

Rich, previously hanging in the background, twitched. He grabbed Michael by the collar, harshly pulling him in until they made eye contact. “Fuck off, Mell. Jeremy doesn’t need your creepy little stalking.”

“Fags gotta fag,” Michael said cheerfully. He was still grinning. “What, jealous?”

The group sucked in a breath as Michael braced himself for a hit. Jeremy wanted to sink into the ground. He screwed his eyes shut, gasping as he waited for anybody to save Michael. Save him too, maybe.

Shockingly enough, it was Christine. She gasped, scandalized. “Those are not friendship words.” She pointed empirically at Rich. “Put him down, now! We at the theater department are tolerant of all walks of life.”

“Are you kidding me?” Rich turned to her, incredulous. “Did you hear what this guy said to me?”

“Jeremy has room in his heart for all of us.” The group gaped at Christine, who was nodding along to her own words of wisdom and was completely oblivious to her social suicide. “I can’t play ‘campaigns’ with him if you beat him up, Rich.”

“Yeah, man,” Jake said, shifting uncomfortably. He slung an arm around Christine. “What she said.”

“Please?” Jeremy asked quietly.

Rich stared at all of them, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Then he convulsed again, hands shaking as he dropped Michael to the ground. He groaned, teeth gritting together, and Jeremy dove forward to jam his fingers in Rich’s surprisingly minty fresh mouth as the others watched warily.

“Dude!” Michael yelped, patting himself down as if he was surprised that he was still alive. “What’s with him?”

“He has some kind of tourette’s thing,” Jake said vaguely.

Brooke, previously silent, frowned. “I thought it was seizures?”

“That’s no seizure,” Michael said shakily. “That’s - “

“Fine!” Rich yelled, and Jeremy quickly retreated. “Let him play his stupid game. Shit!” He hissed again, doubling in on himself.

The group silently averted their eyes  as Rich stopped trembling and shook himself. He adjusted his football jersey self-consciously. Jeremy silently tried to put a hand on his elbow, but he brushed it off.

Michael, pretending he didn’t notice the tension, grinned. “Great! Brooke, Jer, you in?”

The fact that Michael was actually seriously asking the most popular and/or possessed kids in school to play a tabletop roleplaying game with him and was not at that very second getting beat up was a little surreal.

Clearly someone else thought so too, because Chloe whirled on Brooke gritting her teeth. “You aren’t seriously considering this, are you?”

Brooke withered. She looked at Jeremy, who looked away with a blank face. Then she looked at Rich, gritting his teeth furiously, and at an impassioned Chloe.

She stopped listening to her SQUIP. “I like video games,” she said. “I play _Super Shooter Sublimation_ a lot.”

Michael beamed. “Dude, me too! Have you gotten on the new one yet?”

“I wanted to, but I needed the money for new Sephora makeup!”

“I’ll lend it to you if you want! It’s an instant classic!”

“I’m in too,” Chloe said quickly. She slung an arm around Brooke. “I can’t leave her alone with this freak.” She paused, working her jaw. “A token double minority is good for my image anyway.”

“Can you do our homework for us?” Jake asked excitedly. “I mean, not for Rich and Jeremy. They’re the smartest kids in the class. But I’m really shit at math.”

“What a coincidence! I’m working with Jeremy for our math project!” Please, oh god, make him stop talking. He knew it was futile. Michael had never once stopped talking in his entire life and he wasn’t about to stop now. “You can join us for that if you want.” He winked. “Hang out with Jeremy.”

Brooke tugged on Jeremy’s arm quietly. “Are you in?” She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I mean, I think it’d be fun. And even if Michael’s a total weirdo, he doesn’t seem all that bad.”

 _He’s really got us good._ The SQUIP materialized, standing just off Jeremy’s side so he was away from the circle but it wasn’t suspicious when they made eye contact. Rich and Michael followed Jeremy’s eyes anyway. _Now that he has Christine and Brooke on his side, any attempts at beating him up behind the dumpsters would just be counter-productive._

Had Michael known that going in? He laughed at one of Christine’s jokes, hands stuck in his overlarge jacket pockets. Was this a meticulously thought out plan or something crazy and dangerous done in the spur of the moment?

Okay, they were talking about Michael. It was both.

_What are we going to do?_

_Objectives clashing._ The SQUIP was grinding its teeth, flexing its fingers. _Stay away from Michael. Become close with Brooke and Christine. Stay away from Michael. Become close with Brooke and Christine. Incompatible._

Michael was eyeing them, eyeing Jeremy’s flexing fingers and gritted teeth, and smirked. He had just beat a twenty minute puzzle in Zelda. He had just finished grinding enemies until he found the rare weapon. He had unlocked the achievement ‘Fuck With Robot in Every Way Possible’ and it was worth 200g in Microsoft gold and bragging rights.

 _You aren’t going_ , the SQUIP said flatly, hands stuck in his pockets.

 _What am I supposed to say?_ Christine was bouncing on the heels of her feet, laughing at one of Michael’s dumb jokes. The two people he cared about most in the world, one of which he had this big, horrible crush on, and here he was trying to avoid both of them because it was too hard. _Ditching them both is just...counterproductive or whatever? What am I supposed to say!_

 _Cut your own food and make something up_ , the SQUIP snapped. _Christ, do I have to do everything around here?_

“I can’t,” Jeremy blurted, looking down at his feet. “I’m...uh, grounded.”

He and Michael both knew that his dad hadn’t grounded him in years. Rich scowled.

“Same. I’m not hanging out with stalkers.”

“Thank you!” Chloe threw up her hands. “Honestly, people, it’s like I’m the only one with sense around here. Nobody likes girls who play video games, Brooke.”

The others looked at each other, caught in the tangled web of social influence that Michael had happily snipped in half. Brooke always did whatever Chloe wanted, except when Chloe wanted a guy, in which case Brooke did the exact opposite. Jake always did whatever Rich wanted. Brooke had started taking Jeremy’s lead on things. Christine, as Jake’s even tempered and ditzy girlfriend, more or less bopped along to his tune. The righteous scale of justice was swinging away from Michael.

But maybe other people were stronger than Jeremy was.

“Maybe next time!” Christine chirped. Or more oblivious. “Can I be an elf?”

“In Blade Runner? Duh.”

“Best game,” Christine whispered.

Jake put a hand on Rich’s arm but he shoved it off, scowling. Jake looked at Christine, then back at Rich, then paused. “We don’t know each other.” He scowled down at Michael, who grinned nervously. “I’m serious. Try and talk to us in school and you’re dead meat.”

“I’ll make up shit to tell Jenna if you do,” Chloe snarled.

Jeremy was silent.

“Go away before I punch you in the dick,” Rich said flatly.

Christine waved. “Friend me on facebook!”

The others lingered around even if Michael had done the first smart thing all day and beat a hasty retreat, discussing the new status quo and the benefits of having a GBF.

 _You handled that one like a champ_ , the SQUIP snarled. It cuffed Jeremy on the side of the head, making him stumble out of nowhere. Rich looked away. _After him, now._

Mumbling something about the bathroom, Jeremy peeled away from the group and turned the corner to follow Michael. He was whistling with a bounce in his step, and the minute he heard Jeremy run up behind him he turned, eyes lighting up, never unhappy to see his best friend.

The SQUIP stole Jeremy’s body. It schooled his expression into one of hate and disgust and Michael froze.

It strode closer to him, getting as close into Michael’s personal space as it always did to Jeremy, and loomed over him until Michael was practically shrinking back against the lockers.

“I know what you’re doing,” it said. “You must think you’re pretty smart for thinking it up.”

“SQUIP,” Michael hissed. “I knew it was you. You’ve been controlling Jeremy this whole time! Give my friend his body back, you oversized Raspberry Pi!”

The SQUIP clutched at Jeremy’s heart, wounded. “So my best friend betrays me.” It sobered, sticking Jeremy’s hands in his pockets in an eerie mimic of its usual pose. “You got me. I’ve been controlling Jeremy this whole time, in a sense. At the risk of sounding almost as immature as you, what are you going to do about it?”

“I have a plan,” Michael said confidently, stabbing the ground with a finger. “And you’re going to regret you were ever manufactured!”

“You’re already making me regret that.”

“Why are you making him horrible?” Michael cried. “You didn’t need to do all of this crap, calling me names and refusing to even look at me. It’s like you just want to hurt me.”

“Please.” It stepped closer to Michael before he could step away and brushed invisible lint off Michael’s shoulders. It even straightened his collar. “I’m just trying to help Jeremy. I’m his friend, a cool older brother who takes on a vague paternal responsibility once our real father leaves in order to fill that hole in our hearts. I just don’t understand why you’re trying to get in the way of that. Don’t you want Jeremy to have friends?” It flicked at the collar. “Or did you just want him all for yourself?”

Michael sputtered, shrinking lower to avoid Jeremy’s looming pose. “Of course not!”

“Really?” It affected a mock sing-song voice, utilizing Jeremy’s surprisingly good singing skills. “ ‘Guys like us are cool in college’, right? You didn’t even want him to succeed. You wanted to keep him down so he’d fuck you out of desperation.”

Michael turned beet red.

“How can I not know about that? You aren’t subtle.” He sighed, stepping away and rubbing his chin. “Jealous, self-righteous, desperate Michael. Now that he - sorry, I - have a perfect life you want in on that? Please.”

There was just the faint hint of stubble on Jeremy’s chin. Apparently there was an optimal amount of facial hair for a seventeen year old boy and they were doing their damn best to find it. It was the little things like that.

“I’m going to save him,” Michael said shakily. He stood up again, wiping his mouth with the overlong sleeve of his jacket like a boxer. “I’m going to put you in a refrigerator computer and Jeremy’s going to be my friend again, not yours!” He pointed, a perfect Phoenix Wright impression that he had spent hours practicing in the mirror when they were fourteen. “And we’re going to eat popsicles out of you!”

“I’m terrified,” the SQUIP said flatly. “Thanks for telling me your evil plan. Bye now.”

Their turned on their heels simultaneously, striding away in unison except for the split second where Jeremy stumbled on his legs, regaining control of his body.

He didn’t know where he had gone.

 _I didn’t know you could do that_. His mouth was dry, his throat achy and raw.

 _It was an emergency_ , the SQUIP said vaguely. _Don’t worry. Michael shouldn’t make me have to do it again. That’s why I said all that to him -  to make him go away and spare your feelings. He was upsetting you._

Someone around here was making Jeremy upset, and he didn’t think it was Michael. _You didn’t have to take over my body to do it!_

_Would you have wanted to?_

Jeremy was quiet after that. There was nothing more to say.

  


**Robot_jones** : Hey, are you on? Haven’t seen you in a while.

 **Pell_mell** : sorry been busy

 **Pell_mell** : big project ive been working on

  


True to his word, Michael and the cool kids + SQUIPs  didn’t so much as acknowledge each other the next day. But neither did Rich stuff Michael’s head in another trash can, even if he did pick some other random freshman to take it out on instead. Maybe that freshman would buy a SQUIP from a guy named Logan in a Payless one day, and then he would start beating up freshman too…

The freshman blubbered as he spat out gum wrappers. Or maybe not.

Christine was sweet. He flirted with Brooke, then rolled his eyes when Chloe flirted with him back in jealousy. Jake slapped him on the back and Rich didn’t speak to him when they were alone. Jenna and everyone else fawned and simpered whenever they walked in the room, diving to the side to make room for their lunch bags and hopefully complimenting every purse and hairstyle in the vain hope that somebody would notice them. A girl would sidle up, faking a conversation topic desperately hoping to be included, and Brooke and Chloe would effortlessly turn their backs on her and leave her to scurry away. A guy on the basketball team would try and joke with Rich about last night’s game until he was glared into submission. Cheerleaders, goths, geeks, and Mormons - everyone wanted a piece.

Nobody had ever gotten one except Michael, because Michael had offered something he cared about instead of bending to what he thought was their own needs. Michael was not devious with people whatsoever, and Jeremy was forced to wonder where exactly this deft social manipulation came from. Maybe desperation.

They went to the mall. Not even the mall kiosk people attacked them, scared away by Rich and Jake’s intense glares. The SQUIP started making noises about having him try out for the football team once he was buff enough until Jeremy pointed out the fact that it would take away from theater time with Christine.

_Once you’ve made it with Christine, then._

_Sure, whatever._

Jeremy went to football games even though he didn’t care about them, watching Brooke and Chloe cheerlead and pretended he was attracted to them, went to after parties and somehow escaped drinking again. Jeremy hated drinking, and he had gotten away with it so far by just pretending. The SQUIP, surprisingly, didn’t push it.

He went to party after party, even to quiet affairs with just his main friend group drinking in a guest room in Chloe’s giant house. They would laugh and play games, watching dumb movies and sharing uncomfortable things about themselves and talk about life. Everything that came out of Rich’s mouth was a lie, and Jeremy’s was too, but so long as the others thought that maybe they had just one more emotional connection, that somebody real actually cared about them, it was alright.

He had even asked Christine, Jake, and Brooke if they were having a fun time with Michael’s campaign. They had all looked panicked and mumbled vague affirmatives. Except for Christine, who never faltered in going into great length about her cyperpunk elf who lives out of teacups.

Rich and Jeremy were, in some strange way, actual friends. Their SQUIPs never ducked out again, but whenever they all hung out together they found themselves sitting next to each other. Sometimes Christine and Jake would disappear to make out and Chloe would disappear to ruin someone’s life via Skype, and Rich and Jeremy would sit in a guest room together. They would stop pretending to drink and sit in silence. It was nice, in a fashion.

Things got quiet and he felt his brain getting slower, as if the SQUIP was sucking up all of its energy from it and making it hard to think. It got to the point where Jeremy let the SQUIP feed him all of his lines, just so he wouldn’t have to bother paying attention to anything anymore. It made fun of him about this but he didn’t care.

His grades were perfect, and he worked on his math project silently in the back of the room with Michael. Michael, who still thought that the SQUIP was physically moving his body instead of just telling Jeremy what to do, did nothing but glare and make snippy comments.

_This way Michael doesn’t blame you as much for what you’ve had to do. Pretty cool, huh?_

It was pretty cool. That way Jeremy could pretend that Michael hated the SQUIP, not him.

_Oh, don’t get me wrong, he hates you too._

Thanks.

A week after the debacle with Michael they were forced to interact again, this time in Jeremy’s own bedroom to work on the project. There was no way he was stepping foot in Michael’s house again. They had almost never hung out in Jeremy’s house - Michael’s was closer to the school and rocked his amazing retro game and game console collection - and it was relatively a safe area. Michael drove them there in silence, both clearly uncomfortable, but when they entered Michael threw his bag in the same old place and beelined for the cabinets to pick out his favorite snacks.

“Are you seriously eating my food?” Jeremy asked.

“I didn’t know robots had to eat,” Michael said snippily. “I deserve this after all you’re putting me though, you know.”

Whatever. Jeremy’s dad poked his head in through the door, talking through potato chips and spewing crumbs everywhere. Bad form, Dad. “Michael!” He stood up from the rolling chair, lumbering over to give Michael a big hug. Michael affected a grin, slapping the larger man on the back. “I haven’t seen you around here lately, buddy! How’s school?”

“Oh, it’s great. The Terminator’s taken our computer science building hostage,” Michael said blithly. Jeremy pretended this wasn’t happening. “Sorry I haven’t been around. I’ve been stocking up on things.

“Preppin’ for the zombie apocalypse, huh?” His dad laughed. “What things?”

“Oh, you know,” Michael shot a glance at Jeremy. “ _Things_.”

Jeremy’s dad nodded as if that made sense. “Well, catch you boys later! There’s take out in the fridge.”

“Of course there is,” Jeremy muttered. He started reaching for Michael’s hand to tow him upstairs before aborting the motion. Michael saw it, and they ran up the stairs together.

The minute they were out of sight Michael dropped the faux-affable look. “He really hasn’t noticed anything?”

“Duh.” Jeremy opened the door to his room, carefully replacing the paper strip he had stuck between the doorjamb. “God, I hate that man.”

He had been expecting some kind of reaction, even on some level hoping for it, but Michael was silent. Jeremy turned around only to find Michael standing in the doorway, snacks almost falling to the floor and jaw dropped. Jeremy hastily rescued the snacks, placing them neatly on a plate next to napkins on his desk, but Michael was blinking and rubbing his eyes like he was staring into the sun.

“It’s...clean!”

Jeremy looked around.

It was clean. He had dropped a lot of the old posters ( _Cheap looking_ ), started putting away all of his books and comic books in their proper bookshelves ( _Aren’t we a bit old for comics?_ ). His fidget toys, knick-knacks, the scattered debris of seventeen years of life was neatly packed away in cardboard boxes that sat on the highest shelf of a closet. Everything else was dusted, polished, and wiped. The bed was made with military corners and all photographs had been put away.

“Yeah, I guess.” Jeremy sat on the floor, pulling out the posterboard and markers from where he had stashed them in the closet. “Can we just get this over with?”

“My pleasure, brainwashed robot Jeremy.” Michael sat down cross legged across from him, on the opposite side of the poster. “Nothing I love more than talking with my Borg’d ex-best friend.”

 _He’s a regular dog with a bone, isn’t he?_ The SQUIP snickered. _Dog with a boner, more like_.

“Shut it!” Jeremy hissed.

Michael scowled. “Oh, now we get a reaction out of him. You going to make fun of me again and brag about how evil you are?”

“Believe it or not, Michael,” Jeremy said, exasperated. “The SQUIP has better things to do than steal my body. It’s really me.”

“Brainwashed you.”

“It’s really me!” Jeremy threw up his hands. “It’s not like anybody else has noticed. You’re the only one who still cares!”

The poster board was thin and rubbery plastic, and he watched Michael lick his thumb and rub out a marker stain. “Just because nobody knows you’re hurting doesn’t mean you aren’t,” he said quietly. “You’re acting like you did when your mom left.”

“And whose fault was that?” Jeremy snapped. He hadn’t felt this much about anything in a week, since he had last spoken to Michael face to face. He had the habit of dragging real emotions out of him. He pointed at the door. “Dad’s the one who chased her away and was such a loser husband she cheated on him. Now all he does is sit around and not even notice when his son has a new passenger. He wouldn’t even care.” Something tight hitched in Jeremy’s chest until the SQUIP calmed it down, calmed everything about Jeremy down until he forgot why he was even upset about it. “The SQUIP’s done more for me than he ever has.”

“The SQUIP cares about you,” Michael said flatly.

Jeremy nodded. “The SQUIP cares about me.”

“The SQUIP wants to help you.”

“See, the SQUIP wants to help me!”

“The SQUIP loves you. You love the SQUIP. All hail the SQUIP. Drink the Kool-Aid.”

“Very funny,” Jeremy snapped. “The SQUIP doesn’t love me.”

“Yeah?” Michael raised an eyebrow. “That’s funny. I thought we were bowing down to our lord and savior Mr. SQUIP. Sorry, Doctor SQUIP.”

“That’s Mr. Tibbs to you,” Jeremy muttered.

He almost missed the fact that he had even said it until Michael choked on his own spit and burst out laughing. Jeremy smiled and grabbed some scissors to cut the paper with.  

“Hey, I think I’m the one who got a bum deal out of this. Why didn’t I get one of the hot Cylons?” Michael grabbed a pen from the case and began tracing the titles on the board. It was messy, uneven, and the kerning was horrible. “I could have gotten No.6 for an evil best friend instead, you know.”

Jeremy reached out and grabbed Michael’s wrist. He froze, sucking in a breath as Jeremy gripped his arm with sweating palms.

“I can’t let you do that, Dave,” Jeremy whispered. He slowly plucked the pen from his hand. “Your handwriting is horrible.”

Michael blinked owlishly at him before snickering, and then laughing, and then they were both laughing.

It was the first time Jeremy had laughed without being prompted in a week, maybe longer. He laughed harder, letting the light sensation in his chest fuel the wheeze of his ribs, and something bright and hot rose through his throat until he wanted to cry as well as laugh, let the laughter turn into sobs and maybe hug Michael one last time.

_That’s enough._

Jeremy stopped laughing.

_What did I say about this?_

The scissors in his hand started shaking back and forth. Michael was still snorting and hadn’t noticed. Jeremy grabbed the pair of scissors with his other hand, but he only found the scissors moving in jerkier motions closer and closer to his wrist.

_What are you doing? Stop it!_

_I’m proving a point._

Like everyone else in his life, it took Michael a moment to realize what was going on. He strangled off a shout as Jeremy moved the scissors closer to his arm. Or was he pointing them at at Michael? Was he just holding them out? Did it matter?

“Shut up and go back to work,” Jeremy said.

Michael made a swipe for the scissors, but Jeremy’s arm ducked out of the way. “Give me the scissors, holy shit dude, give me the -”

‘“Shut up,” Jeremy said pleasantly, “and go back to work. Your handwriting is so shitty you’re making me do all of it.”

He put the scissors away and they went back to work, this time in silence.

“Next time, Jeremy,” Michael whispered, knuckles tight around his fat red marker. Some of it was smeared on his hand. “Next time.”

  


That next time never came. Whatever jealous and clingy bullshit Michael had been spewing at the party, whatever point he had been trying to make, had been cut short by the SQUIP coming back online and making him leave.

The next morning he got a text from just about everyone.

 _Well, what do you know?_ The SQUIP leaned against Jeremy’s shoulder, running its hands through his hair. _Rich set a fire and he burned down the house._

  
  


**Pell_mell** : i can’t let this go on any longer

 **Pell_mell** : the plan isn’t ready yet but I have to put it into action

 **Pell_mell** : the fate of the world depends on it

 **Robot_jones** : Dude, what are you on?


	3. Chapter 3

He sat with Chloe in the waiting room, holding her left hand supportively as her right hand texted out all the sordid details to everyone they knew.

Jeremy had never actually been in a hospital before. It was alright, he guessed. It felt a little like an airport, with people coming in and out looking tired and the bing and hum of machinery echoing through the halls. Nobody looked really happy to be there.The plastic bench that he and Chloe were sitting on was hard and molded just like the ones at school, and just as uncomfortable. Really, when you got right down to it, it was a little like high school.

Not many people had visited so far. He could only suppose that Rich wasn’t too popular anymore - or rather, way too popular. The SQUIP had been right - affections were mayflies, and friendships as long as a Tweet.

Despite what Chloe had said, despite her capitalizing off all the pain for her own gain, there was something tired in her eyes. Two of her closest friends were in the hospital for major injuries, and one may have had a psychotic break. So far as she knew - in reality, Rich had his psychotic break years ago.

 _Why did they let him do it?_ The SQUIP wondered. It poked Chloe on the forehead, who didn’t react. _Honestly, there’s going off-line and then there’s negligence. You shouldn’t leave children alone with matches._

“He tried to kill himself,” Jeremy whispered.

The SQUIP made a finger gun and aimed it at Chloe’s head. She was still texting furiously. _He’s always been suicidal. Last time they went offline for maintenance they caught him with half a bottle of sleeping pills in his stomach. Easy enough to make the stomach throw them all up, of course, but a hassle._

“You guys are supposed to help with that kind of stuff,” Jeremy whispered. Chloe slumped slightly, leaning against him and still texting.  “Be there for him or something. Isn’t that one of the things you’re supposed to fix?”

The SQUIP shrugged. He rested a hand on Jeremy’s head. _Sometimes you have to put down a lame horse. He’s always been weak, Jeremy. I know you wouldn’t do something like that. You aren’t still a weak loser, are you?_

“But…”

 _Who am I kidding. It’s you!_ The SQUIP laughed. _Of course you are. Still, I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you._

Jeremy opened his mouth, then closed it. Chloe pressed out another tweet on her phone, rubbing at her eyes. _Really?_

 _Of course. I helped you with your faggot problem, right?_ The SQUIP gestured at Chloe. _You would have gotten all the way there if that kid Jake hadn’t burst in. We’ll get them next time, sport._

Something heavy churned in Jeremy’s stomach. _I didn’t want to do that._

He could feel the rise and fall of Chloe’s breath against his shoulder. _Is that so? I can’t blame you for being picky. Don’t worry - now that we’re down two jocks you’re prime meat. Christine will be yours in no time. Then you’ll get what you want._

 _I liked Christine_ . Chloe looked up from her phone, feeling the hitch in Jeremy’s breath. _I liked her, and thought she was funny, and nice, and just a little bit wacky. I even kind of wanted to be with her. But I think I just wanted to be the kind of person who would be with her more._

 _Is this about Rich’s little tirade?_ The SQUIP asked flatly. _I just told you, he was defective. His system couldn’t handle the upgrade. With just a little bit more time I could make you normal. Then you’d be on your knees begging me to help you score with these bimbos._

“You probably think I’m such a bimbo, huh.” Chloe smiled weakly at him, pushing herself off his shoulders and shaking out her hair. “It’s okay, you can say it.”

“I don’t think you’re a bimbo,” Jeremy lied. “Where’s this coming from?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She chewed on her hair, turning her phone on and off. “It’s not like I don’t care about Rich and Jake, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It’s just that I think it’s my responsibility as, like, a civic citizen to spread the words on this kind of stuff. Get the word out so they can set up a GoFundMe or whatever.”

Jeremy leaned back in the hard plastic bench in the hospital waiting room. He was tired, and most of him didn’t care about last night or about Rich and especially about Chloe, but he didn’t feel like parroting lines today. “It’s okay to want to step away from the things that make us feel bad,” Jeremy said. Chloe froze, eyes widening. “Or pretend that they’re happening to someone else. It makes you exploitative and mean, yeah. But we’re all exploitative and mean.” He stared down at his hands. “If you’re a bad person I’m worse. We’re all worse, I guess.”

Chloe sat there with him in silence.

“Jake jumped out of a window holding his best friend,” Chloe said, almost in wonder. “Saving him from the fire Rich had started in his own home. If anyone here’s not a bad person it’s him. That’s some serious freaking dedication.”

“That’s love,” Jeremy said softly.

 _And look where it got him_ , the SQUIP sneered. He was leaning against a wall, staring disinterestedly at the ebb and flow of hospital traffic. He spread his arms. _Breaking both your legs because of some homo crush. You wouldn’t do that, would you?_

“Not that I would know about it,” Chloe huffed. She shook her head. “Sorry, this is such a bad place to be talking about my love life. Especially considering…” she coughed, blushing. “Uh. Sorry.”

“Please don’t do it again,” Jeremy said woodenly.

Chloe stared at him for a long moment, then squinted. “Did you not...like it? Hey, I’m not exactly bad at it.”

“You were great.” He really, really didn’t want to have this conversation. “I just like someone else, you know.”

Her lips formed a perfect ‘o’ of realization. “Shit! I had no idea, you should have said something. I wouldn’t have given Michael such a hard time if I knew that you actually liked him back.”

_Smooth moves, Romeo._

“I do not have a crush on that fag Michael,” Jeremy snarled, half-rising out of his seat. “You fucking take that back.”

“Okay, okay, christ! I take it back.” He was breathing heavily, heart jack-rabbiting with fear. Chloe looked around, as if someone was listening in on their conversation, before leaning forward and hesitantly saying, “You know, if you did...it would be okay with me. I think it’s sweet. You don’t need to, like, hate yourself.”

Jeremy barked a sharp, ugly laugh. “Hating yourself is the only way you get better. You have to beat yourself into shape, don’t you get that? It’s either that or beat other people down, but I guess you would already know all about that.”

His chest was heaving. The SQUIP twisted on a nerve, making him gasp with pain. _Chill out. You have to be strategic about insulting girls before you sleep with them._

Chloe turned off her phone, putting it to the side. She didn’t look hurt, or even sad. Only just a little wistful. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you lose your cool,” she said. She crossed her legs, leaning back in her chair. Her Charming Charlie’s jewelry clanked against each other, plastic pink rhinestones and dainty chains. “To be honest, it’s kind a relief. You’re always so perfect.” She smiled. “I guess even the perfect person hates himself sometimes, right?”

“This isn’t feelings time,” Jeremy snapped. It was strange. Even though the SQUIP wasn’t talking through him and telling him what to say, he sounded a little like it. “Just lay off, okay?”

“Has it ever really been feelings time with you?” Chloe asked shrewdly. “We’ve been friends for three months and I barely know who you are.”

“I’m nothing,” Jeremy said.

Chloe looked at him strangely.

Before she could open her mouth again Chloe had gotten another text from Christine, telling them where Jake’s hospital room was and that they could come in now. Rich’s was right next to it, and apparently he was receiving a visitor now. Who would actually visit Rich now that he committed social suicide Jeremy had no idea.

They would have gotten lost on the way there if a bored SQUIP hadn’t been telling them exactly where to go. If Chloe was confused over how Jeremy could perfectly navigate the sprawling hospital without a map, she wasn’t saying anything.

Christine opened the door when Chloe knocked on it, Brooke standing up from her chair in the corner. Jake, sitting comfortably in the hospital bed with two leg casts slightly raised, winced and waved a gentle hello. Come to think of it, they all looked fairly guilty.

Chloe crossed her arms. “Were you guys gossiping? Without me?”

“That’s the first thing you say?” Jake complained. He smiled, hospital gown a rumpled and cottoney blue. The room was nice, with sunlight and flowers. A lot of flowers, actually, and cards and chocolate. No parents and no family by his bedside. Jeremy belatedly remembered that his parents were on the run from the law or something. How obscure. “What, no hug?”

If Jeremy had been paying more attention he would have noticed the tears in Chloe’s eyes sooner,  but as it stood the first thing he saw was Chloe leaping forward and wrapping him in as tight a hug as possible. She clutched him close and he laughed, Christine and Brooke making cooing sounds, and the second Chloe retreated with a burning face she whacked him upside the head.

“What was that all about, Jacob? Throwing yourself out a window, seriously?”

“Did it look cool?” Jake asked intently. “That’s all I need, man.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy looked down at his hands. “The coolest.”

Christine watched them, bouncing on her heels as Brooke coughed and moved towards the door. Neither of them looked too great - Christine’s dress was rumpled and her hair was sticking up at the ends, like she had been sleeping in one of the hospital chairs, and Brooke had taken off her pumps and was talking around in stocking feet.

They were both giving Jeremy strange looks - cautious and guilty ones. They had been talking about him before he came in.

_That line writes itself._

The three girls drifted together and started whispering as Jeremy waved weakly at Jake. He really did look alright. He was a little burned, and of course he had two broken legs, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d get slowed down by a wheelchair in anything but the most literal sense.

“Some party, huh,” Jeremy said weakly.

“Trust me, dude.” Jake leaned back in his bed, hair sticking on the white nylon pillows. “You trying to sleep with my ex-girlfriend is the least of my problems right now.”

“There was no trying about it,” Jeremy muttered, and Jake gave him a sharp look. Jeremy looked away, embarrassed. He had screwed up more today  than he had in weeks. Things were heating up, getting a little out of control. Whatever this was, Jeremy suspected, they were entering the end of it.

Well, good. The thought of trying to keep this up forever made him feel sick. No wonder Rich had tried to kill himself. Maybe he had the right idea of it.

The SQUIP materialized, standing a little behind him and placing both of its hands on his shoulders. _Now, now. None of that. I’d never let you do that to yourself._

At least someone cared.

Chloe cursed loudly and the two other girls shushed her. Jeremy and Jake looked at each other, shrugging. The SQUIP raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. Jeremy agreed with it - it really was best not to ask too many questions.

“Nice to see you again, Jeremy!” Brooke grinned, displaying two rows of gleaming white teeth. One of them was a little crooked. Another imperfection. “But me and Chloe and Christine really have to go for, uh, girl stuff.”

“It’s our period,” Christine said solemnly.

_TMI much?_

The two other girls glared at her. Chloe shot Jake a significant look, who just blinked guilelessly at her. She mouthed something and he made a noise of comprehension. What was going on?

“Man, I feel kind of tired.” Jake said loudly. Brooke buried her face in her hands. “Why don’t we all evacuate so we can all take a breather, okay?”

Jeremy blinked. “Uh, sure.”

The girls nodded, made affirming noises, and clapped Jeremy on the back straight through the SQUIP. Then Brooke physically towed Chloe out the door. Christine made motions to follow them until she glanced back at Jeremy, biting her lip.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Anytime,” Jeremy said honestly.

They found themselves sitting outside of the hallway in front of Rich’s room, the SQUIP leaning on the wall opposite them like a Greek chorus waiting to evaluate every twist and turn of fate. Its door looked a lot like Jake’s door, its side of the hallway looking a lot of Jake’s side of the hallway. It was nice in its own way - Jeremy supposed that they would want rooms close together. Jeremy wondered if, in that home where flames licked the ceiling and smoke polluted the air in every room, they thought they were going to die together. If they regretted it.

Jake was in his hospital room now, flipping through old magazines and watching TV. He didn’t look like he regretted it at all. He looked pretty pleased with himself.

Christine didn’t. She was making funny little mouth sounds again, leaning up against the wall and puffing out her cheeks so he could press on them and exhale. Jeremy laughed a little, blowing his own raspberry. She really was so cute.

“Tough day?” Jeremy asked, already knowing the answer.

She puffed out her cheeks again. “The toughest.” She had sleep around the corners of her eyes, some of it trailing down her face. Jeremy realized belatedly that Jake was her (ex?)boyfriend, and she had to be taking this harder than anyone. But she was Christine, and she laughed away her pain. She looked at Jeremy uncertainly. “Jeremy, I really...like you.”

A miniature firecracker exploded in Jeremy’s chest. The SQUIP fist-pumped.

Jeremy cleared his throat. “I really like you too.”

“That’s why I don’t like to see you sad.” Christine traced a finger on the linoleum floor, not meeting Jeremy’s eyes. “Michael said you were depressed. I didn’t really get what he meant because I’ve never been depressed myself, even if I do get really scared for no reason sometimes and everything worries me because I’m not good with people, but after a while and with Brooke pointing out literally everything I think I got it.”

The SQUIP glared at him, and Jeremy quailed. “I don’t know so much about that.” Wait. He straightened. “Michael told you?”

“Our roleplaying game is very fun and very educational, like all good roleplaying games.” She looked shifty. “But maybe I shouldn’t tell you any more about it.”

_Press her!_

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that we’re making...think of it like a surprise birthday cake. A surprise birthday cake of love.”

_Did you really have to pick the retard for a beard?_

“Shut up!” Jeremy hissed. Christine’s mouth dropped open. “No, not you, sorry.”

_Really, I’m not kidding. She definitely has Asberger’s. Your children will be defective. That is not an upgrade._

_Well maybe you need to make up your freaking mind on who I’m allowed to hang out with!_

“Jeremy, I’m sorry. I’m trying to say something and I don’t know if it’s coming out right.”

They sat there in silence, looking at the ground instead of each other.

 _She needs her own SQUIP. She’d be less socially awkward then. She’d also be happier and better at play rehearsal._ It straightened from leaning against the wall, smiling gently. _What is it that you keep calling it? ‘Feeding you lines’? That’s her wet dream. Someone around to feed her lines all day long. You know she’d want it._

Maybe it was right.

_Yeah, I’m right._

“I feel like we haven’t talked too much lately,” Jeremy said lamely, just to break the silence and the SQUIP’s smile. “Besides the party, I mean.”

“I guess we’ve been busy.”

“Yeah.”

Christine took a deep breath, made a little buzzing sound, then released it.

“I care about you. You’re my friend. But Michael’s also my friend now. And I don’t like the way you treat him.”

Jeremy opened his mouth, then closed it. The SQUIP groaned, punching the wall.

“Our falling out was pretty bad,” Jeremy said lamely.

“Yeah, I know. It’s why you started hanging out with us instead, right?” Christine was anxiously playing with her fingers. “But it’s still not, uh, nice. Especially those words you keep on using about him. And the words Rich uses about him that we all let him say. But I think you’re okay with it because you feel that way about yourself. And that’s not okay.”

The blood in his body ran cold. The SQUIP was positively twitching. _That’s it. Repeat after me, Jeremy._

_No, hold on. Repeating after you is what got me in this situation in the first place._

“I’m not a....” Jeremy trailed off. It had been easier to yell at Chloe, because Chloe was a bitch who was capitalizing off other people’s pain. Christine wouldn’t know capitalization if she ran a typewriter business. “That’s not true. You don’t really believe that, do you?” His voice broke, and he realized he was pleading. “You can’t really think that, can you? It’s not true!”

Christine’s mouth twisted. “Who keeps telling you that it’s wrong?” she demanded. “Besides a fourth of the school, I mean. Who keeps telling you this stuff? I’ll - I’ll beat them up for you! I played Nala in a production of The Lion King once!”

“Nobody’s telling me anything!” Christine shot him an unimpressed look, and Jeremy quailed. “Okay, okay, but he’s right. Everything he says about me, it’s all true.”

Christine puffed up, truly alarmed. “Everything who says? Jeremy, is someone bullying you?”

“No one bullies me,” Jeremy snapped. “Not anymore. He made sure of that. Christine, he’s helping me. He can help you too.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Michael was right.”

_Michael was right about what?_

“What was Michael right about?”

“You mean why is Michael always right?”

Jeremy leapt to his feet. Michael had just exited Rich’s room, and he waved them a carefree hello and sucked on a slurpee. He looked even worse than he had yesterday, and yesterday he looked like that image of the guy from Always Sunny in Philadelphia. There were giant bags under his eyes, and his usual puffy red jacket and jeans had been switched out for a leather jacket and cargo pants. He looked a little like an intern for a bicycle gang. He was wearing sunglasses, and Jeremy wondered if his eyes were red.

“Michael, I-”

Michael held up a hand and quietly closed the door behind him, still sucking on his slurpee. “Hush, man’s sleeping. He’s had a rough day. Well, three years.”

All the breath left Jeremy’s body, as if the SQUIP had punched him in the stomach. “He told you?” Jeremy hissed. “How could she have let him tell you?”

Michael gave Jeremy some finger guns. “And that’s one of the more disturbing sentences I’ve heard lately. Rich is fine, by the way, in case you cared or something.”

_Go see him. Now._

“I have to go see him.” Jeremy strode forward, intending on pushing Michael out of the way. He was a great deal taller than Michael and the other boy was somewhat forced to lean back, but he held up a hand.

“If you try and go in I’ll cause a scene,” he said cheerfully. “Get the cops called on you. Bet that would really mess up your little plan.”

“What plan?” Jeremy risked a sidelong glance at the SQUIP, who was positively glitching in anger. “Michael, what are you talking about? Why are you being like this?”

Michael tsked, shaking his head. “Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy. You positively utter douchebag. Wait.” He snapped his fingers, faking surprise. “I said Jeremy three times. How many of those Jeremies were Jeremy? That’s the million dollar question. One Jeremy? Maybe even, god forbid it, two Jeremies?”

“Stop messing around and let me in!”

“The question’s been keeping me up at night, man. No kidding. I’ve been swinging so much Red Bull it’s not even funny.” He sighed. “Goes to show that the only answer I needed was found at a crappy high school party. How’s that for irony.”

He wanted to scream. He fisted his hands in his hair, released them, and tried not to let his entire body go haywire with frustration and fear. “Right idea of what? What are you even planning to do?”

“What aren’t I planning to do,” Michael said. Jeremy didn’t know what was going on. “Quick, what does your mystery date think of our picnic plans?”

_That’s it, I’m taking over._

“No, wait!” Jeremy groaned, holding his head. Michael and Christine stepped closer to him, but he waved his hand. “Stop it!”

“Wow, my mortal enemy, telling me to stop doing something. Oh no.”

_He wants to ruin everything for you. He’s trying to sabotage you!_

“No he’s not! Stop saying these things!” Jeremy gasped as an electric shock wound its way through its spine, setting his nerves on fire and making his teeth hurt. “Fuck! Michael!”

A cool hand clasped his elbow. “Come on, man, fight it!”

A feather light touch ghosted over his back - Christine, bending over next to him. “If you’re having a seizure don’t bite your tongue! Be careful not to do that!”

_I can’t do this for very long, but you’re forcing my hand._

Jeremy shuddered, a horrible convulsion that rippled down to his feet, and as his body shook the SQUIP took it over.

It grabbed Michael’s hand first, clasping it just like they used to when picking each other up. Michael pulled him up, eyes wide as Jeremy’s body touched him voluntarily for the first time in three months.

It pulled Michael closer, feeling the press of his body and Michael’s hitched breath, and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“There’s a thousand of us hidden in this school, and you have to eat sometime.” Michael’s eyes widened, and he started trying to push away from Jeremy even as it increased the grip on on Michael’s hand. “We have people everywhere. You’ll find the pill in your Red Bull. Maybe the pudding the cafeteria lady gave to you. It could be in your slushie right now. Then you’ll regret having made my runtime difficult.”

Michael hitched a deep breath, but when he looked up to meet Jeremy’s eyes they were as fiery and determined as he had ever seen. “Fuck with me, go ahead. Fuck with my best friend, fuck you. Fuck with my junk food...you’re deactivated, SQUIP. I’m going to put you on a speaker and wipe your hard drive.”

“You love him,” the SQUIP whispered. Christine was standing away from them, confused and scared. Michael’s eyes went wide. “He loves you too, did you know that? How do you know that deactivating me won’t kill him?”

“He wouldn’t want to live like this.” Michael pushed himself away from him. “Rich didn’t.”

Jeremy’s body shook, and trembled, and convulsed, and then he was himself again. He could move his arms and feet and cough with his own throat.

The first thing he did with his new legs was run, run away from Christine and Michael calling his name, away from the hospital and back into his car. He gunned the engine, and without even thinking about it he roared his way to the school, wind from the open window blinking back tears.

He officially had no idea what was going on anymore. Michael and the SQUIP were apparently engaged in some weirdo chess game, except Michael was better at checkers and he always got bored halfway through and wanted to go back to Super Mario instead. Jeremy was beginning to feel like a game piece. He was beginning to ache for Rich, covered in bandages lying alone in a hospital bed because despite everything at the end of the day nobody really cared about him. Nobody except Michael and his…

Jeremy hit the steering wheel with his palm. His roleplaying group! How could he have been so stupid!

Had they spent the entire time talking about him, laughing at him? Were they walking about what a horrible person he was, what a homophobe, what a bad friend? Jeremy wasn’t the homophobe, it was himself he hated. He didn’t hate Michael, just himself. He had never hated Michael.

Jeremy had never hated Michael!

A thousand images flew through his mind as he speeded. Michael’s sullen look when he sat down to work on their school project. His surprise at his clean room. His laughter, his robot jokes, his fear. His mastery at _Super Shooting Sublimation 2_ and the random user on the internet who blasted Gotye because he had just had a really bad break up.

More memories, so fast and dense he could barely think of them. Every time Michael made a dumb joke, a thousand blood red slushies and a thousand more tossed his way. Every cute boy he had obnoxiously pointed out, making Jeremy flush. A cabinet full of video games, a binder full of every ‘CONGRATULATIONS - YOU WON!’ message at the end of the games they completed.

He had been afraid that they only hung out because they had nobody else. He had felt like the only reason he liked Michael is because he was too pathetic to like somebody normal, like a girl. He had liked Christine, even liked her a lot, but if Jeremy could just date Christine then he would know that he wasn’t stuck together with Michael forever. He wanted a choice, not just because they were two losers who didn’t have anyone else.

He had gotten what he wanted after all. He knew what choice he would have made, but it was too late now.

The SQUIP was sitting in the car seat next to him, staring at him with a cold and unblinking gaze.

_You’re in too deep to quit now, Jeremy._

“I know!”

They skidded across a corner.

_You’ve betrayed Michael. You’ve betrayed all of them and they know it. Rich is going to tell them about what you both did, and they’re going to lock you up in jail for the rest of your life for being such a psychopath that you needed me to tell you what to do._

Fuck. He was right. Fuck!

_Imagine the look on Christine’s face when she discovers what a chronic liar you are. Brooke, Chloe, Jake. You’ve been manipulating them._

“I know!” Jeremy screamed over the roaring wind. “I know!”

The SQUIP didn’t change its facial expression, looking and looking at him. _They’ll take out their insecurities on you. Chloe’s mean and cruel nature will come out. Jake’s idiocy, his pathetic loyalty to his friend who you helped screw over. Broke’s simpering jealousy and pettiness. Rich’s so weak he tried to kill himself. They’ll turn it on you._

“I know, I know!”

_They need help like you needed help. You heard what Christine said. You could help her instead of manipulate her for once._

He could?

He turned into the parking lot of the school, parking almost across two spaces as he jumped out of the car. He leaned against the door, panting and watching his hands shake. He felt like he had just ran a marathon, or was having a panic attack, or was having a really bad trip. Probably all three.

The SQUIP materialized in front of him, taller even than Jeremy and looming above him. Jeremy shrunk, backing up until his back hit the door of the car, and couldn’t help but make himself seem smaller.

_I don’t know why you insist on being such a terrible person all the time. You’re ruining your life._

“I’m sorry!” His hands were still shaking. “I just never know what to do, and - and your advice isn’t always all that great either, and - “

_Me? My advice? This is my fault now?_

“I never said that - “

 _Typical Jeremy, always ducking responsibility._ It threw up its  hands, shrugging helplessly in a ‘what can you do’ motion. _Shifting the blame onto me for everything that goes wrong. There’s only one constant factor in your fucked up little life, and that’s you._

“Technically, you’ve been kind of constant these days too.”

 _Shut up._ Jeremy shut up. _You never listen to me. You’re defective. It’s like your USB port doesn’t even work half the time. At least you’ve stopped thinking about sex nonstop._ It snarled. _The downside is that you’ve stopped thinking at all. Am I really supposed to do everything around here?_

“You wouldn’t have to if you wouldn’t take over my body!” Jeremy snapped. It glared at him again and he cut himself off. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m just tired all the time. I feel slow and my brain doesn’t work right anymore. I think Christine was right. Maybe I am depressed.”

 _How can you be depressed when I’m in your brain?_ The SQUIP said patiently. _Honestly, Jeremy._

“That...that doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

 _It’s because I improve lives. Your life, for one._ He was still far too into Jeremy’s personal space, as usual. _Just like I’m going to improve the lives of everyone in your school._

“Wait, what?”

It inspected its fingernails. _Well, I decided fixing you is too hard. I’m going about it another way. I’m just going to fix everyone else._

“Wait. What?”

_You heard me. Me and my recently deceased friend planted a shoebox full of SQUIPs into Richard’s locker. We were going to have him douse his friend Jake’s drink with it, and then they would SQUIP the school...but I guess you’ll do._

Jeremy screamed, trying to take a step back and just hitting his back against the car door instead. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 _All I’m asking is that you take the shoebox and put one little pill in one little minifridge. Then you just leave the shoebox there. That’s it!_ It made little jazz hands. _There, even you can do it._

“Why - why would I ever want to do that?”

 _Oh._ Its face fell. _Would you like some convincing?_

Well, he could already tell that he was going to get it anyway. “Uh, sure?”

 _Wonderful._ It grinned, backing away slowly from Jeremy and letting him breathe again. _Let me tell you a little about the pitiful children._

By the end of it, Jeremy was convinced.

The school was eerie at night, the dark throwing new corners into sharp relief and hiding familiar paths. He felt like a criminal, which he technically was, although he knew his heart that he wasn’t being a bad person. The SQUIP told him which doors were unlocked, how to dodge the security cameras, how to find the keys.

It even knew Rich’s locker combination.

Rich’s locker was as neat as his bedroom. There was nothing inside save for some textbooks that hadn’t needed to be taken home. No gum wrappers, no forgotten homework, no pictures of his friends stuck to the door with a magnet. Just some books and a cardboard shoebox rattling with a thousand wintergreen tic tacs.

If the school was eerie in the dark the auditorium was frightening. He prowled the edges of the room, almost afraid to step inside the middle, egged on by the SQUIP’s goading. He climbed onstage and looked out across the whole auditorium, feeling the eyes of five thousand seats fixed firmly on him.

The SQUIP stood behind him, hands on his shoulders. _They’re all going to know what you did for them. They’re going to love you, Jeremy. Especially Michael._

He opened a side door that lead to a small room where they kept the orchestra equipment, and from there he entered the drama classroom. He ran his fingers over Christine’s seat, and checked his own desk for anything he left behind. Oh, there was his pen.

Mr. Reyes had a minifridge under his desk full of organic Mate tea and beer that he thought nobody else knew about. One of the cans of tea was open, and when Jeremy swished it around he could see that it was more than half-full.

He dropped a SQUIP inside, adrenaline humming through his veins, and quickly poured the bottle of Mountain Dew he had found in his car into the can. He replaced the drink and closed the fridge. At the SQUIP’s instruction, he hid the shoebox in a drawer inside Mr. Reyes’ desk.

The school was pressing in on his chest, and he only exhaled when he finally burst through the double door entrance. His legs were shaking, and he collapsed on the stairs. Everything was shaking and his heart was thrumming. It was the most alive he had felt in weeks.

The SQUIP materialized next to him, running its fingers through his hair like his father used to. _Very good. You were wonderful. You saved your friend’s lives, you know._

“Save it.” Jeremy sighed and leaned into the touch. He would have to come back to school tomorrow, with a backpack and a lunchbox pretending to be a normal boy before the play that night. It was going to be a big day. For everyone. “I don’t care anymore. I’m tired.”

_You’ll be home soon. I really am proud of you, Jeremy._

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, “whatever.”

 

 **Pell_mell** : this is it, I think this is the night

 **Pell_mell** : the night it all goes down

 **Robot_jones** : Isn’t this the night your school is putting on that play? Is that what you’re talking about?

 **Pell_mell** : oh uh yeah. Some friends of mine are part of it i was going to come see them.

 **Robot_jones** : Oh, that was what you meant. So much drama lol

 **Pell_mell** : haha guilty

 **Pell_mell:** If I never come back, tell my parents I love them. My name is Michael Mell of New Jersey. “The opposite of bravery is not cowardice but conformity.” - Robert Anthony. Put that on my tombstone if it comes to it. Good night and good luck.

 **Robot_jones** : lol good luck with your play Michael ;)

 **Pell_mell** : wait

 **Pell_mell** : is your handle a reference to ‘Whatever Happened to Robot Jones?’ the old TV show from when we were kids?

 **Pell_mell** : why is your handle a robot name?

 **Robot_jones** : ;)

  


_Michael is definitely up to something._ The SQUIP peered around backstage, checking behind curtains and costumes as if Michael was going to jump out from behind them and headlock Jeremy.

“That was kind of obvious,” Jeremy muttered, fiddling with his headset. He was out of costume, as his part wouldn’t come in until the very end.

_Don’t backtalk me._

“Sorry!”

The play had already begun, Chloe stumbling awkwardly through her lines.  Everything was about to start, including whatever it was the SQUIP had needed the pills for. Jeremy was past the point of caring. Wasn’t he?

The techies were running around backstage, movements monotonous and eyes glazed. It was no small wonder after the nonstop rehearsal week. Everyone was dead on their feet, even Jeremy. It was quiet, every student working in unison to lift curtains and drop them, add props on stage and take them away, like a well oiled play making machine. Jeremy was a little impressed in spite of himself. Despite the stupid plot, they might win UIL with this kind of performance.

He peeked around the corner and saw Chloe forget a line. He winced. She might ruin it, though.

 _That’s it._ The SQUIP snapped its finger, and Jeremy ducked around the other side of the stage so he could get a better view of the crowd. Sure enough, Michael was sitting in the third row, bouncing his leg and looking around the room. He was about as stressed out as anybody could possibly feel watching a school play. He was amazing, and the best, and pretty much the coolest guy ever, but subtle he was not. He could just barely see his backpack next to him, overstuffed with the zipper open. _Whatever his creepy little plan is, he’s putting it into play tonight. We have to stop him._

“I have an actual part in this play too, you know,” Jeremy said, peeved. “Can’t this wait?”

The SQUIP looked at him, and Jeremy backed up a step. _Am I seriously hearing this right now?_

“Look, I did what you wanted! I put the SQUIP in the glass and put the shoebox in whatever. I don’t know what you’re even going to do with that, but I don’t care. You haven’t even said how you’re going to help my friends yet. I think I deserve some answers here!”

 _Deserve._ The SQUIP snorted. _Have your hissy fit later, we have a job to do._

“No, you have a job to do.” Jeremy’s voice shook. “And I - I don’t like the way you talk to me either.”

Why he had decided this now, of all times, he didn’t know. The SQUIP’s time was coming, whatever plan he had was being put into action, and all the pitiful children like Jeremy were going to get what they deserved.

But at that moment, all Jeremy could think to do was keep him away from Michael. Michael didn’t deserve this. Michael didn’t deserve Jeremy. He had been swearing on his life to protect Jeremy this whole time and Jeremy had sat back and let it happen, not even bothering to cheer him on.

Well, he was going to save Michael this time. Somehow!

His courage faltered when the SQUIP’s face darkened. _Excuse me?_

“I-I don’t!” Jeremy clenched his fists. For Michael. “I know you just want to help me and improve my life and stuff, but you could do that without being such a dick all the time! And stealing my body and making me ditch my friends and - and there’s nothing wrong with being gay!”

The SQUIP stared at him incredulously. _That’s what you’re focusing on? Being gay? Christ, kid, it’s only your biggest insecurity. It was like stealing a baby’s Minecraft login._

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

It began advancing on him, but this time Jeremy refused to back down. _I never forced you to abandon Michael. You’re the one who downloaded the upgrade. You’re the one who deleted his save file. You’re the one who blocked him on Facebook!_

“I know, but - “

_No matter what you do you’re going to come crawling back to me. I’m in your brain, Jeremy. I am your brain. I am more than a voice in your head or a ghost in this shell. I’m more real than you ever were.”_

“You’re a real pain the ass!” Jeremy screamed. “Fuck off and leave me alone, goddamit!”

“Jeremy?”

Christine was there, standing at the top of the back steps to the auditorium that Jeremy had exited out of. He was looking up at her - as beautiful as ever, short black hair glowing in the spotlight. She was perfect.

No, that wasn’t true. She was imperfect, just like the rest of them.

_That’s why she needs us._

“Christine,” Jeremy sighed. “I need your help. Something’s gone horribly wrong.”

“You mean the play?” Christine descended the steps slowly. She was holding something behind her back. The SQUIP had moved aside, just visible from the corner of his vision, always visible. “Chloe’s parts are over, so we should be okay.”

_No. No, I like that about her!_

“No, not that. Well, yeah, kinda.” Jeremy shook his head, every thought spinning. He felt like he was going to throw up. He stumbled, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from a sweetly worried Christine. “Christine, I need you to answer a question for me.”

“Sure, Jeremy,” Christine said cheerfully. “Anything.”

“If you could…” Jeremy gulped, his throat constricting in on itself. “If you could take a pill, okay? That would make you smart and cool and popular. That would make you - make you straight, or make you not hate yourself, or make you somebody worth loving. Would you do it?”

Christine blinked at him, tilting her head slightly. “I don’t need a pill to make me happy. The only person who can do that is myself.”

Then she hit him on the head with a fire extinguisher.

Jeremy collapsed to the ground, screaming in pain as the SQUIP tried desperately to catch him. A few passing techies, none of which had seen or noticed him talking to himself, started yelling and trying to pull Christine away from him. She hit them with the fire extinguisher too, swinging the metal tube half the size of her body soundly into Dustin Kropp’s face.

She screamed in anger and righteous five foot fury. “Now!”

The spotlights in the play blinked out, the actors blinking dumbly and looking up at the ceiling. They seemed pretty calm about it. The crowd murmured, one or two of them rising from their seats, and Jeremy saw from his prone position on the ground more and more techies rushing past them to spill out onto the stage. Jeremy noted, with no small amount of horror, that they were clutching baseball bats and heavy orchestra equipment.

He pulled himself up, one leg at a time and almost stumbling forward, and tried to pull one of the techies off Christine. She round-house kicked one of them in the face. “Go!” One of them bit her leg, making her scream. “Get out of here! Help Michael!”

Jeremy nodded dumbly, ignoring the SQUIP’s angry howl, and ran out on stage.

The auditorium was pandemonium. Parents and students in the audience screamed as tiny green pills were shoved down their throats, and techies dressed in all black ran around the stage and were singing in unison. Mr. Reyes stood in the center, holding up two beakers and laughing, lab coat costume whipping in the wind.

The SQUIP materialized, standing in front of Jeremy in the center of the stage, its back to the audience and hands spread out in victory. It laughed. _You’ve SQUIP’d the whole school! Nice job breaking it, kid._

Jeremy screamed.

_Oh yeah, keep whining, that’ll solve your problems. Little punk._

“I’ll stop you!” Jeremy screamed above the din, tossed and turned by techies jumping off the stage and more and more theatergoers starting to sway along to the rhythm. “I’ll - I’ll get drunk!”

 _Alcohol doesn’t solve your problems, Jeremy,_ the SQUIP lectured. _It just makes more of them._

“That’s totally inapplicable to this situation!”

Was this what Rich felt like, when he was so desperate he set a house on fire? If Jeremy had a house to set on fire right now he would have done it. Stumbling around calling for -

“Mountain Dew Red!” Jeremy snapped his fingers. “Green for go, red for off! It’s so simple!”

 _Yes, that was exactly the preschool logic we used, good job._ Someone in the back row screamed, pleading for their life before growing silent. Jeremy had done this. _Very funny. Don’t quit your day job. Why on earth would we use a discontinued gamer soda as a shut-off mechanism for our entire network frame?_

“Why would you use it as an on button?” Jeremy screeched.

The SQUIP blinked. _Damn, you caught me. Yeah, it’s totally Mountain Dew Red. Why do you think we had it discontinued in the 90s? Good luck getting past our company’s patent on time travel!_

It snapped its fingers. Somebody walked out of the backstage, in a lacy taffeta lab coat and a rhinestone lab goggles. It was Chloe, dead eyed and lumbering. The fashion zombie had become a literal zombie.

From the audience Brooke stood up, climbing onto the stage with Jake right behind her. He had physically walked out of his wheelchair on two broken legs, stumbling with pain but lifting himself onto the stage with linebacker ease. They walked up to Jeremy, eyes dead and lidded with sleepy apathy, and he wondered if that was what he had looked like all along.

_Here’s my end of the bargain. You’re welcome._

Jenna was singing a rapturous tune from on high. Chloe and Brooke let their jaws slacken as they turned to face each other.

“Brooke, I’m sorry I was jealous of you and slept with all of your boyfriends,” Chloe sniffed. Her goggles slipped down onto her neck, revealing crystal blue eyes that stood out against the brainwashed masses. Stood out against Jeremy’s. “I was really just jealous of them. I’m in love with you. I always have been, but I was just too much of a massive bitch to say anything.”

Brooke teared up, taking Chloe’s hand and gently wiping away the tears from her face. “I love you too. I didn’t want to say anything because - well, it’s not like I’m much better right?” She laughed, a hoarse and scraping sound. “Let’s be different from here on out, okay? All of us, let’s be different. No - let’s be the same. Like we used to be. When you gave me that friendship bracelet in seventh grade. We were friends forever back then.”

Chloe smiled. “Let’s be a little more than that.”

They kissed, lip gloss against lip gloss and perfectly coiffed locks tangling into each other. Jeremy wanted to cry.

“The SQUIP says he wants me to restrain you!” Jake said cheerfully. He dived for Jeremy, on two broken legs, and holds his arms behind his back. Jeremy screamed, trying to break the hold but overwhelmed by Jake’s linebacker strength. In desperation he kicked at Jake’s kneecaps and the other boy screamed, falling to the floor but keeping his hold on Jeremy. “Hold still, homie!”

Jeremy screamed again. Chloe and Brooke were beaming at each other, Jake was pressing him down into the ground and grinding his head against the floor, somewhere Christine was fighting off hoards of zombies with a fire extinguisher, and this wasn’t what Jeremy had wanted at all. He wanted to go back to bed. He wanted Michael.

Michael! “Michael would!” He screamed, kicking his legs against Jake. “He would have it! He shops at Spencer’s gifts in the mall!”

 _Wow, convincing._ The SQUIP bent down so he was face to face with Jeremy, smiling brightly. _Too bad you called him a homo, attacked him, and abused his internet trust. Why would he show up to save you now? He’s probably already SQUIP’d._

“Because Michael loves me,” Jeremy whispered. “And I love him more than I’m afraid of you!”

Someone in the audience screamed. No, not screamed - hollered. A teenage boy in a puffy red jacket and large headphones around his neck sprinted screaming across the center aisle, arms akimbo and clutching a two liter bottle of soda. Like an out of shape Olympic track star he leaped up straight onto the stage, falling on his back and rolling against the floor until he bounced back up again in a perfect three point landing.

“Michael makes an entrance!”

The techies and brainwashed masses immediately began swarming towards him.

Before anyone could blink Chloe and Brooke had whipped out their pocket sized pink bottles of mace and were spraying it into the eyes of the zombies.

Chloe hollered a war cry just as fervent as Michael’s. “Chloe makes an entrance!”

Brooke kicked a freshman in the face. “Brooke makes an entrance!”

 _Are you serious?_ The SQUIP asked, retreating in horror. _Michael? The kid with the Pac Man tattoo and the Mountain Dew?_

“That’s right, fucker!” Jake hollered. He hadn’t let go of Jeremy, using one arm to pin him to the ground as his legs splayed out at an unnatural angle behind him. “And Jake is making his entrance! Michael, now!”

Before Jeremy could register it Michael was crouched down in front of him, Chloe and Brooke keeping the zombies at bay. He grinned down at Jeremy.

“Man, I’m so sorry about this. You’ll forgive me when you’re better.”

Jeremy was forgiving him right now. Michael pawed at the two liter, and Jeremy realized for the first time that his hands were shaking too hard to open it. He noticed Jeremy looking and laughed awkwardly.

“Not gonna lie, I’m totally having a panic attack right now. We’re cool, we’re cool!”

_You don’t want to drink that, Jeremy!_

Jeremy’s arm seized, and he watched in horror as it tore free of Jake’s grip and slammed into the side of Michael’s face. He went rolling, scrabbling for purchase against the side of the stage. Jeremy kicked out again, aiming for Jake’s kneecaps and breaking free at the first cry of pain. He rolled out, own legs twinging and arms feeling like they were wrenched out of their sockets, his body moving on its own.

It was trying to get away from Michael, to dive off the side of the stage - except Michael had already intercepted him, tackling him until they were both rolling against each other and trying to push the other off. It was almost like their play fights when they were little kids, except Jeremy had been winning those ever since puberty.

Michael held Jeremy down with one elbow and tried to unscrew the bottle with the other. The SQUIP waited until the cap had popped off for him to smack it out of his hands, and they both watched in horror as bright red syrup spilled all over the stage.

“You’ll never win!” Jeremy’s mouth screamed. “Do you think there’s any Jeremy left right now? Who do you think SQUIP’d the school?”

“I don’t care,” Michael grunted. Jeremy socked him in the jaw and he was thrown back, but he reached forward and grabbed Jeremy’s collar again, bringing them closer until they were rolling on the ground trying to punch each other. “I don’t care what you did! You’re my best friend!”

“Why!” Jeremy screamed, and this time it was Jeremy. “I don’t understand why.” Michael’s grip loosened and he fell backwards, throat hitching with tears and exhaustion. “You’ve spent all this time trying to help me and I’ve just been pushing you away. Everything it says about me is right. I don’t know why you keep trying. Just let me…”

Michael elbowed him in the jaw again. “Like I give a motherfuck! Do I look like I would love a loser!” He reared back, desperation beating out Jeremy’s greater height and strength, and he fisted his hands around his collar and screamed in Jeremy’s face. “Do I look like I would love a bad person!?”

Whatever Jeremy would have said to that, whatever Jeremy could have ever said to that, he never got the chance. Someone shoved Michael off of Jeremy, starling him enough into letting go, and before Jeremy could even register it Christine was straddling him with an almost empty bottle of Mountain Dew and death in her eyes.

“Say hi to God,” she whispered, before dumping whatever Mountain Dew she could into Jeremy’s mouth.

The SQUIP screamed, and everyone in the auditorium screamed with him. Michael rolled himself back up as Brooke and Chloe grabbed him and helped him up, and Christine quickly jumped off Jeremy to help tow Jake away somewhere safe. Jeremy was screaming too, like this throat was turning itself inside out, and his head was ringing with the static of a quantum mind.

_I’m not gone yet, Jeremy! You’ll regret doing this to me!_

“I regret even meeting you!” Jeremy, every bone in his body aching and several parts of it split open, dived for the bottle of Mountain Dew that Christine dropped.

_You’ll never be a good person like this! You’ll never be someone who deserves to be loved!_

“Love isn’t something people have to deserve!”

With his last bit of strength Jeremy downed the last of the Mountain Dew, the final drops needed to kill the machine.

His head exploded, and he fell back down on the ground screaming and clutching his head. Everything had gone fuzzy and he was pretty sure he was going to die.

The SQUIP screamed in his ear as it died. Jeremy heard every second of it: the gasps of pain, the anguish, the fear and rage. He ached for it. He wanted to reach out, help it, make it proud of him or make it say nice things about him again. He even wanted it to say mean things about him, just so it was talking to him at all.

But that was impossible, and after a second he realized that he didn’t want that at all. Nobody was telling him to want anything.

Jeremy lay curled into a fetal position on the floor of a high school auditorium, surrounded by the debris of setting props and an alarming amount of blood, thinking one thing over and over and over again until he passed out with a smile on his face.

_Die, fucker._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left!


	4. Epilogue

 

 **Pell_mell** : dude whats the math homework again

 **Robot_jones** : eh i dunno my grades are basically in the trash lol

 **Pell_mell** : hnghhhh

 **Pell_mell** : when are you going to change your username its giving me a wiggins

 **Robot_jones** : just when we all found out what happened to robot jones????

 **Robot_jones** : ok fine hold on let me think of something witty

 **Pell_mell** : take ur time. Want me to come over and help you with math later?

 **Wish_u_were_heere** : yeah sounds good

 **Wish_u_were_heere** : thanks

  
  


“Okay, first things first - buy him a rose!”

Chloe smacked Jake on the arm. “No, apologize for being cruel to him, ditching him, then trying to kill him and infest him with robots!”

“Go with chocolate instead,” Christine said. She paused a beat. “But I’m asexual, so I like the chocolate part the best.”

It was a beautiful day. The school was back open, and the world was beginning to freeze into the twilight of fall. They were wearing jackets, thick or leather or fluffy, and Chloe had given Brooke hers when Brooke forgot it. Rich was leaning on the back of Jake’s wheelchair.

Christine was holding hands with Jeremy, swinging their arms back and forth. She liked repetitive motions like that, and Jeremy kind of liked it when she held his hand.

The brown and crinkled leaves were falling away, and Jeremy knew how it felt.

The final bell would ring soon, and school would be let out. Christine, Jake, and Chloe were all supposed to be in their theater period, but since the entire cast got turned into zombies and repeatedly brained with a fire extinguisher and/or mace the class had more or less dissipated. Jake and Rich weren’t supposed to be back at school but they were anyway. Rich had informed them cheerfully that his grades were thoroughly tanking. He was going to have to spend the whole summer catching up on the three years he had barely paid attention but he didn’t seem to mind.

Michael was the only one left who hadn’t gotten out of school yet, and they were all waiting for him so they could go hang out. Jeremy didn’t know what he was going to say.

Brooke clapped her hands professionally. “First things first, an apology. No blame game here, people.”

Chloe hunched in on herself. “I have pretty good reason, don’t you think?”

When Chloe had realized that she almost had sex with Jeremy she burst into tears and ran away, and it took Brooke hours to get her to come back and apologize to him. Jeremy, who didn’t feel like he should be the one people were apologizing to, shrugged it off.

Jake reached over and punched her gently in the shoulder. “Hey, it’s chill. I’m kinda glad Rich burnt my house down. It made me feel liberated.”

“Getting put into a wheelchair made you feel liberated?” Chloe asked snidely.

Jake looked up at Rich, who looked down with a blank face. “It made me realize what was important,” he said. “So yeah, a little.”

“What about you, Rich?” Brooke teased. “Do you have any love advice?”

Rich didn’t answer, his face perfectly blank and staring at the leaves falling off the trees.

The group waited politely for a few seconds before realizing he wasn’t going to say anything.

He had been chatty the first few hours, then silent, then chatty again. He was silent now, and had evened out at more or less silent. For how long, Jeremy didn’t know.

A cold wind blew and the teens shivered, Jake huddling slightly under the warm blanket stretched over his legs. He jokingly offered a corner of it to Rich, who solemnly took it and draped it back over Jake’s face.

“I think you’re supposed to give them flowers and chocolate and then apologize for trying to kill them. In that order.” Christine gave their arms a great big swing. “Probability wise, what were the chances of all of us being gay?”

“I’m not gay,” Rich snarled. The others jumped. “I’m not - fuck.” He wiped his hands over his face. Jake squeezed his hand. “Fuck.”

Everybody averted their eyes and shuffled their feet, just as they always did whenever he was having one of his seizures.

“Nope,” Jeremy said blithely, who had always known that they weren’t seizures at all. “You’re bi. Bi like N’Sync.”

Rich groaned. “Fuck you, Heere.”

“I know it’s hard for you,” Jeremy said. “It’s difficult enough just...getting bi.”

Christine giggled. “Rich Nye the Science Bi.”

“Life has gotten really intense lately,” Brooke said, sticking her hands in her pockets and looking out into the horizon. “You know what they say: Life Free, Bi hard.”

Chloe snickered. “Oh, he’s the school bi-cycle alright.”

“I hope to god you’re bi, you’re my not-yet-boyfriend,” Jake said.

Everyone burst into laughter.

They had talked about it. Jake had thrown himself out a window about it. But Rich wasn’t ready. He probably wouldn’t be ready for a long time. Jake had said that he would wait. Maybe talk again once his legs stopped being broken and they could go for long walks. Something. Just something.

They went on talking, badgering Jeremy about the perfect way to ask Michael out. Chloe and Brooke had already gone on a shopping spree of gay pride accessories for all of them. Jeremy didn’t know what kind of waves every popular kid in school coming out as gay would make, but it would be different. Everything would be different.

_What did I say about being a fag?_

“Use protection,” Jeremy whispered to himself.

Rich elbowed him in the side, tilting his head a little until his glassy eyes met Jeremy’s. They were hooded and dull, his face rarely twitching outside a flat expression unless he was exploding with anger and fear. Jake had his hands full. That was alright.

“What’s it saying now?”

Jeremy leaned against the tree, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. “Same thing it was telling you a few minutes ago, I guess.”

“Sometimes it’s like it hasn’t gone away at all,” Rich whispered. Like that day in his room, his dull eyes shone with repressed fear. “Jeremy, what if it hasn’t?”

“Remember what we talked about,” Jeremy whispered. “Come on, with me. Got it?”

It was a stupid joke they had made up talking at Rich’s bedside a few days ago. They had talked late that night, continuing on until their voices were sore, talking about everything and nothing.

Rich grinned sheepishly before taking a deep breath and humming a silly little song. Christine, from where she was standing next to Jeremy but without any context, listened to it for a few seconds before immediately picking up on the tune. She did musicals.

“I got voices in my head,” Rich whispered, “but now they’re just the normal kind.”

Jeremy elbowed him. “I got voices in my head, but now they’re just the normal kind!”

They both laughed, and Christine giggled. “Me and my voices have made up our collective mind.” She gasped, pointing at the doors. “Me and my voices say that Michael’s out!”

“Whoah,” Chloe said flatly, “he looks kind of crappy.”

“Better,” Brooke allowed, “but crappy.”

They had missed the bell ringing, but it was hard to mistake the flowing tide of students streaming out past them. They were waiting near the side exit that Michael normally used, feeling somewhat like stalkers, and they quietly bickered as the first students broke the dam of the bell and started pouring out as quickly as possible.

“I’m saying,” Chloe hissed, “that he should put a note inside a new video game box or something.”

Brooke elbowed her, then linked their arms. “And I’m saying that throwing fake presents at him isn’t going to solve anything.”

“You’re the worst girlfriend. I’m breaking up with you.”

“I can’t sleep with your ex if I’m your ex,” Brooke said mournfully. Both girls giggled.

Christine was chatting with Jake, whose relationship hadn’t actually changed that much since they had broken up. Christine was like that. Jeremy squeezed her hand then reluctantly withdrew it, not wanting Michael to get the wrong idea.

He never could have have missed him. Michael slipped out the door, head down and backpack hoisted high on his back. He looked better, but still not great. He hadn’t been in school the last few days - Jeremy had suspected that he was catching up on sleep. He must have been in a state of nonstop anxiety the past few days. It was Jeremy that had caused that. They hadn’t really seen each other since they tried to beat each other up. The bruises were still on his face, and Jeremy knew that they were still on his face too. The kids in school were still commenting about it but, of course, they thought it was cool.

“Michael!” Chloe hollered. Michael’s head snapped up, eyes widening when he saw the small group standing by the tree. She made frantic gesturing motions.

Michael’s eyes traced to Jeremy, who shrunk against the tree and looked away. Rich scowled and puffed himself up, probably in defense of him. He had seen Rich tackle Jenna yesterday when she said something nasty about Chloe and Brooke. The school knew about all of them now - all of them, it seemed, except Jeremy.

He shoot them all a wary glance but jogged on over anyway. He stood a few feet from them, crossing his arms and looking away. His lip was trembling. Jeremy knew the feeling.

Chloe gave Jeremy a little shrugged. “Go on, do it!”

Brooke had been devastated and horrified when she learned that the SQUIP had been forcing Jeremy to pretend to like her. Chloe still hadn’t forgiven herself for making out with him. But Brooke made little cheering sounds and Chloe was making threatening eye gestures again, even though it had to be completely counter-productive. They hadn’t understood, maybe.

“Hey,” Jeremy said. He started shrinking in on himself before he realized that he wasn’t allowed to do that anymore and straightened up. Then he realized that nobody was going to make him stop, but he stayed straightened up anyway. “Uh.”

“What is it,” Michael asked flatly.

“Don’t be rude,” Chloe snapped, “he’s trying!”

Jake massaged his brow. “Chloe…”

“I don’t have to do shit,” Michael said.

“Oh, no.” Christine was biting her nails. “Should we have gotten chocolates?”

“I really like Cindi Lauper,” Jeremy said suddenly. The others shut up. Michael’s eyebrows climbed into his hairline. He had never told anybody that except for Michael, and then only when he was pretty freaking high. “And, uh, I’ve seen Brokeback Mountain like seven times. My favorite video game used to be Zombiepocalypse, but nowadays I just like playing on our vintage Game & Watch we got from eBay. When Michael and I were twelve we used to sneak into Spencer’s to see the weird sex stuff.”

“Dude,” Michael hissed, “you don’t need to tell them that!”

“My point is,” Jeremy said, louder. “I have no idea who you people are.” He made a sweeping gesture to the others. “To be frank, I didn’t care and the SQUIP definitely didn’t. You have no idea who I am. What, like my hobbies are actually watching NASCAR and shooting hoops? Really, guys?”

Brooke looked down at her feet.

“You bought into it. All of it. Hell, I don’t blame you. I wanted to buy into it too. But Chloe was right when she said I was eerie. That person was the perfect person. That person has never snuck into Spencer’s to see the weird sex stuff in their life. That person didn’t love Michael more than anything else in the world.”

He coughed into his fist. Rich turned away. “So thanks for the advice, I guess. But I just want to talk to my best friend right now.”

Without missing a beat Rich saluted and began wheeling Jake away. Christine followed them, whispering something to Rich and humming a little tune, and Chloe turned around and opened her mouth to say something to Jeremy. But she saw that he was about to cry, and that Michael was about to cry, and she grabbed Brooke’s arm and towed her away instead.

For the first time in three months, it was Michael and Jeremy, and he wished he hadn’t wasted so much time being unhappy.

“So what do you want?” Michael spread his arms, one thumb hooked over the strap of his backpack. A cold wind blew, whipping both of their hair into a mess, but he didn’t seem to notice. Jeremy reflexively reached up to straighten it. “You’re here to say I’m sorry, it was the robot in my brain that made me do it, the end?”

Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck. “I - “

“Or are you going to stand here and tell me for ten minutes about what a terrible person you are instead?” Michael spat. His throat was getting hoarse, as if he was trying not to cry. “I don’t wanna hear about all of that, man. We can’t just go back to normal.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want you to find out how I felt about you through some stupid computer!”

“Yeah.”

Michael sniffed. “I had it all planned out, dude. It was going to be a completely normal night for us, with Zombiepocalypse and our favorite junk food and shit, but we wouldn’t be high in case you didn’t think I was being serious. But I would be a little high, because I was scared. And I was going to turn to you and say…” He trailed off. “I never figured that part out.”

“It told me it was a bad thing.”

“I didn’t know they put the digitized brain of Mike Pence into a supercomputer, seriously.”

“Really, it was just the easiest way to make me feel bad.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, forcing himself to look at Michael. When the wind blew his hair into disarray again he didn’t fix it. “You want to know how much of it was me and how much of it was the robot? I don’t know either. When you have this thing whispering into your ear literally twenty four hours a day every day, you don’t know what’s yourself and what’s the robot either. I want to hold myself responsible for everything I did, but...I don’t know if that’s fair.”

“I don’t want to be fair,” Michael whispered. “I want to be mean.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They stood in silence.

“Do you really love me too?” Michael asked quietly. “Because I didn’t want to hear that under those circumstances either.”

“It was suitably dramatic?”

“Shit, you’re right, never mind.” They grinned at each other before Michael sighed gustily. “You know, I think you’ve suffered the repercussions for your actions enough.” He scratched the back of his neck. “And maybe I feel a little bad too. You know, whenever a guy imagines someone he cares about getting mixed up with a bad guy, you always imagine getting super macho and beating the guy up. You know, like in video games.” He mock-puffed out his chest. “ ‘Nobody messes with my best friend!’, that kind of thing. Then you beat him up and save the girl and stuff. Peach from Bowser. The girl you like running off with a bad boy, you know.” He deflated his chest, defeated. “I just never noticed how much it was hurting you. The video games don’t really talk about how the abusive friend...dad, boyfriend, robot thing messes up your head and makes you think weird stuff. So maybe that’s not all on you.”

“It wasn’t abusive,” Jeremy protested hotly. “It was just…”

“Just what?”

He didn’t know.

“I kind of miss it,” Jeremy said honestly. “I...liked it, when it was telling me what to do. When it paid attention to me, even if that attention was bad. It would tell me I’m awful, then say that it would make me not awful anymore if I just did what it said. Eventually I was only...not awful when I did what it wanted. And it wanted a lot from me.”

Michael was silent.

He didn’t need to actually ask if Jeremy wanted it back. Of course the answer was no. But Jeremy had always wanted a lot of things that were bad for him, like approximately everybody else on the planet, and he was weak like them too. He wasn’t perfect.

Thank god.

“Give me a Bowser, man,” Michael whispered. “Or a Ganondorf or even a blue team player. I’d take anything. This isn’t what being a hero is supposed to be about.”

Hey, wait a minute. Jeremy held up a hand. “Dude, did you just call me Princess Peach?”

Michael squeaked. “I didn’t mean it!”

“You did!” He pointed accusingly at him. “You just called me Princess Peach and Zelda, and one of those imaginary girls redpillers make up! How dare you!”

“It’s better than calling you Zant!” Michael retorted. “You were kind of the villain the whole time!”

Michael shut his mouth with an audible snap, afraid he had gone too far.

But Jeremy smiled, then laughed, and his chest hurt and nobody made him stop. Michael laughed too, both of them snickering together as if they were bent over a posterboard. Just like it, only that they were free.

“Some part of me had always wanted to be the hero,” Jeremy said finally. “Or the cool guy, or whatever. But that was you, dude. You were the hero this whole time. Sometimes it’s not so bad being Princess Peach. She’s Mario’s favorite person, right?”

“I think that’s Luigi,” Michael said, with a completely straight face.

“Not fucking Luigi, dude.”

“Waluigi?”

“Christ.” Jeremy laughed again, and shivered, and felt the world turn in its own time. From now on it would turn with him and Michael together. He had made a promise. “You did it, man. You got the girl, you defeated the villain, you did both at the same time. What do you do now? They never really talk about that.”

“I dunno.” Michael shrugged. “Get stoned in my basement?”

They hugged, long and lasting, and Jeremy knew that they couldn’t be together right now. He hadn’t wanted a boyfriend, he had wanted his best friend. And in his own way, he was kind of like Rich right now. It was okay that they needed time.

“You’ve always been a good voice,” Jeremy said into his shoulder. “The best voice I’ve ever had in my head. You drown it out.”

They separated, Michael frowning at him. “Dude, we haven’t even started getting high yet, hold your horses.”

Jeremy shoved him and Michael shoved him back. He accidentally hit one of the spots where Michael had actually punched him and he hissed, and Michael winced apologetically.

“Sorry, man.”

He groaned melodramatically. “I think you broke something. Here, come feel my ribcage, see if it’s broken.”

Michael cautiously reached out a hand for Jeremy to take, and he yelped as he realized that he had been tricked. They laughed, Jeremy swinging Michael’s hand, and the little touch he had been waiting for for so long sent electric thrills down his spine.

“Rich and I made up a dumb song,” Jeremy explained. “About the voices, I mean. Since we both hear them a lot.”

The pressure on his hand increased, and Michael stiffened. “What’s it saying?”

“Right now?” Jeremy grinned, squeezing the hand. “Not anything worth worrying about.” He tugged them forward, walking to the parking lot where they knew their friends would be waiting. They had all arranged to have a get together, catch up and explain and apologize to each other a million times, and maybe play some Icebreaker games too. Jeremy had already started drafting his introduction in his own head. Hey all, I’m Jeremy Heere (Hi Jeremy!) and I am a SQUIP addict.

“So what’s this song?”

“Repeat after me.” Jeremy hummed a the tune twice over, and Michael quickly picked it up. They could both do musicals, actually. “And I still have voices in my head, but now they’re just the normal kind.”

“And I still have voices in my head, but now they’re just the normal kind.” Michael repeated.

They smiled at each other, walking together with their clasped hands swinging back and forth.

“And out of all the voices in my head, the loudest one is mine!”

“And of all the voices in my head,” Michael sung, “the loudest one is mine!”

“And of all the voices in my head - “

“- the loudest one is mine!”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. Your comments and readership have all meant a lot to me. I have a lot of other work in this fandom, so please check out the first chapter of the new story I have posted! It features evil Jeremy and a crime-fighting Michael and Christine duo. Thank you all so much!


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